


A Crow's Daughter

by Quinny_Imp



Series: A Wolf and Three Crows [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 79,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_Imp/pseuds/Quinny_Imp
Summary: She was born to a family on the run, bred by an Antivan Crow, trained by two, answering to none.Her path was crossed by two unusual elves. One who believed fake love was for sale, and the real one got you killed. The other one whose past was filled with pain, betrayal, and distrust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All art in the story by me. Please do not repost or re-use.

 

She watched him carefully, but discreetly from the moment he had entered the tavern. He was a confusing mix of non-threatening look due to his not very impressive even for an elf height, and a very dangerous look of his weaponry and unusually thick for an elf muscles, visible between his armour’s shoulder pads and gloves. The first impression, however, was misleading. She could have missed him entirely, if his ears didn’t draw her attention to him. Only after noticing all the other details she started putting them together. She wondered how many others fell victim to the illusion of a small harmless elf.

“Can I join you?” he asked with a thick accent, just like her father’s, which only enhanced her suspicions on his identity and purpose here.

She looked around. There were many empty tables, so no apparent reason why he’d want to sit at hers. He looked around too, mirroring her, and looked back at her, clearly expecting an answer. A small smile played in his lips. An interesting tactic.

She considered her options. It could be a coincidence, and he could just fancy her, but that was the least possible scenario. With the Antivan accent, a tattoo on his face, armoured like on his way to a war, and daggers behind his belt, he had to be a Crow. The question was: was he here after her or her father? He seemed to have a plan, so she decided to investigate. She knew he wouldn’t slaughter here right here; it would be very un-Crow-like.

“Please.” She gestured to another chair at the table.

He smiled. A long wisp of his blond hair dangled in front of his nose, while the rest was neatly plaited and pulled back behind his cute pointy elven ears.

It would be so much easier if he was a human. Boring, big, bulky human. Instead, she could be forced to kill such a cute, tiny, adorable el--

Stop! Stop thinking of him as an elf, and start as mortal danger.

He had to caught her eye… or caught that he had caught her eye, because he smiled wider. “You’re almost done; may I buy you another one?” he asked, pointing at her mug.

She shouldn’t drink any more. “I’m at my limit, thank you,” she replied politely. “But don’t let it stop you.” She hoped he’d be easier to probe if slightly tipsy. He probably wouldn’t allow himself any more than that.

He took some mead but didn’t seem to sip much on it. “Why would such a lovely lady sit here all alone?” he asked her.

“I’m looking for the love of my life.”

He laughed. It was infectious, so she laughed with him. “Any luck?” he asked.

“Well, there is… you.”

His left eyebrow raised slightly, as he gave her an amused look. Then he winked at her. “How come I’m the only one?”

“It’s empty.” She gestured around.

“Their loss, my gain!”

He put aside his mug, and as she had suspected, he hadn’t drunk much. It was still almost full, in spite of his looking like he was sipping from it for the past few minutes. He was alert, and she knew he hadn’t come here to relax. He was on the job.

“You seem nervous,” he observed.

And she’d thought she was good at it. “No, maybe… maybe I just… already had too much,” she mumbled, pointing at her drink, and scrambling to compose herself.

He seemed to accept her answer, but she knew she shouldn’t trust anything he said or did. She also knew she had to tip the advantage to her side. “Or maybe it’s you,” she purred, gently touching the tip of his left ear.

He didn’t pull away, but looked at her, smiling slightly. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

She smiled. Really smiled, not play-the-game smiled. There was something charming about him.

She found it amusing he clearly tried to get close to her by playing nice, while she was attempting exactly the same thing. It amused her a lot less that she kept catching herself on really liking him. He seemed cheerful, like he had no worry ever in his life. Her father was nothing like that. Always grim, serious, wouldn’t recognise a joke if it hit him in his face. So she assumed all Crows were serious, deadly assassins that screamed from distance “I’m here to kill you!” with their mannerism. It was hard to combine with his constant warnings “You won’t see them coming until it’s too late, so be always prepared.” They are either good at striking from shadows, or smelled from miles and miles away.

This one? She would have babies with him if he only asked.

No! Concentrate! He may be an adorable elf, but also he’s here most likely to kill you. Stop thinking with not-your-head!

She watched his hands, as they were walking out of the tavern. She didn’t want to be caught by surprise. She didn’t delude herself: her chances of defeating a seasoned Crow in a straight up fight – even as young as this one – was slim. Only deception could save her skin. Like she, he was probably trained for this all his life.

She always thought she’d end up seducing whoever came after her, and how she’d have to fight the disgust at using her body like that with some icky stranger. She knew it could be a complication, and even make her back out the last moment. Instead, the complication was being distracted by his silly jokes, cheerful voice, and pointy ears. Why did he have to be an elf! She kept forgetting he was here to kill either her or her father. She kept forgetting her goal was to kill him before he took her life, not to lose her virginity with him. Well, no solely.

She looked toward the red sky and trees that hid sunset. “It was a hot day. Care for a swim in a cool lake?” she asked.

The smile he gave her was a clear “you just made my work easier.” Did he suspect she wasn’t as straight forward? Or he believed his charm was that hard to resist? If the latter, she was in luck.

When he stripped, leaving all his weapons behind, and dived into cool water, she thought it was a fairly good indicator he considered her no threat. She swam to him, and only belatedly realised that he could simply drown her here. Or break her neck on the shore. He didn’t need weapons to end her.

He grabbed her arm, pulled to himself, and kissed her. She felt both his hands on her body, and promised herself not to lose track where they were at any point, until she was ready to strike.

They slowly swam toward the shore, where she pushed him on his back, right next to their clothes, and sat on him. She leaned on, kissing him and stroking the tips of his ears. He seemed to enjoy that. One of his hands on her hip, another on her breast. She slid onto him, which made him groan with pleasure. He seemed sufficiently distracted… but so was she – she realised – as she lost track of his hands. Not that they were where they weren’t supposed to be. It seemed he was giving himself to their current activity in full, unlike her.

She leaned forward, and reached out for his own dagger, as it was closer to her hand than hers. She put it to his throat. His eyes opened with surprise, then he smiled. “You’re more devious than I expected,” he said with seemingly sincere admiration.

She knew she had to kill him to survive, but it was getting harder and harder to think of it.

“I have only one question,” she said. “Are you here for my father or for me?”

He gently stroke her back. She tensed, expecting it to be a prelude to something, but his hand rested there. “I assume there is no right answer to this question, yes?” He pondered for a moment. “But then you wouldn’t ask at all. There is the right answer, and it’s one of these options.”

He wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t going to even acknowledge it.

He kept thinking out loud. “If I’m right… If both answers meant my untimely death, I would already be dead. If only one, you’d kill me in self defence or… ask questions.” He watched her reaction, and she was doing all in her power not to make it possible for him to read her. “”All answers kill me, one saves me.” He paused. “He’s my target. You were not even mentioned, so you are outside of the scope.”

“Then why did you join me at my table.”

“He’s been on the run for years. He knows how to hide. When I discovered he had a daughter, you seemed to be a good source of information on where to find him.”

“You want me to lead you to him.”

“Not directly. I wouldn’t expect you to give up your own father… However, I’m still alive, so this possibility unexpectedly came to life.”

“You wanted to trick me.”

“To retrieve his location from you without you even noticing, yes.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Will you kill me afterwards?”

“You’re not my target.”

“A wider scope?”

“I don’t work for free.”

“How can I know you’re not lying? How can I know you wouldn’t turn against me after reaching your goal?”

“You don’t. But you also have a knife at my throat. One small move, and your problem is gone.”

She considered her options. Help him or kill him right here, right now. Helping him could be followed by dying. But it was also very tempting. Really tempting.

“Shall we finish or I die?”

He gave her such a look she couldn’t help it and laughed. He didn’t waste the opportunity it offered. He grabbed her wrist and removed the dagger away from his throat, squeezing tightly enough for her to drop it. Then he rolled them away from their belongings, effectively pinning her under his body, completely defenceless. She tried to struggle, but he held her firmly.

“So which will it be?” he asked calmly.

“If you wanted me dead, I would already be, right?”

“If I wanted you both dead, you’d be after leading me to him.” He leaned closer. “But you really aren’t my target,” he whispered to her ear.

His honesty and pointing out holes in her reasoning confused her. His soft hair on her face distracted her.

“I have a question, too,” he said. “Why do you even consider giving him up as an option? What did he do to you?”

“Not to me. To my mum.” She watched him, unable to decide what to do. He patiently waited, looking into her eyes. “If I told you now where he is, what would you do?”

“Put my clothes on, and go to him.” He smiled, and his voice lowered to a smooth whisper. “But I really wish we could finish what we started. I don’t like leaving unfinished tasks. That’s unprofessional.”

“I’ll take you to him,” she decided. Paused. “After we finish,” she added.

He inclined his head a bit and let go of one of her hands, which immediately went to his ear to stroke its tip. Then he leaned closer to kiss her, and she finally gave herself in to passion without trying to stay alert. Whatever was coming, was coming. At least, she’d go having an elf.

 


	2. Chapter 2

She finished braiding his hair, and they set up on their short journey.

“Be careful,” she said. “He’s probably drunk as usual, but all his life he was on the run, and knew eventually one of you would come after him. He still is dangerous.”

“If your own training is an indication, indeed.”

She smiled. It was quite a compliment from someone like him. Or maybe flattery. Or both?

They reached the edge of a tiny clearing in the forest with a small cottage – unkempt and falling apart – and with her father sitting on a small bench in front of one of the windows right next to chopped logs. She had grown up in his house, and now she hated it more than anything else in the world. She even felt a jot of satisfaction to see it was in such a poor state of disrepair.

“You can leave now,” he said.

She gave him a surprised look. “Why?”

“Do you want to watch me killing your father?”

“Yes.”

Now it was his turn to give her a surprised look. “Why?”

“You see this house? I grew up there. He built it with his own hands for my mum and me. It was the third one, after the first two were raided by Crow assassins. This one was hidden well enough not to be found… until now.

“He could never hold a job, he knew nothing except how to kill people, so the only thing he was qualified to do was to train me, in case the Crows would consider me as much a traitor as him.

“Coin ran out, he grew more frustrated with each day, and he started to take that frustration on her. A year ago he took his frustration on her so much she never got up. I was in the forest foraging, and not here to protect her.” Her voice started cracking. “I couldn’t wash her blood off the floor. It sank into the old wood. I couldn’t live here any more. Not with him.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “My foot never stood in this house again. I haven’t seen him since.” She wiped the tear off with an angry gesture, and looked defiantly at the Crow. “I want you to kill him. I want to watch. I want him to see me watching it.”

The elf studied her face for a while. She expected him to try to make her change her mind, but then he nodded. She appreciate he didn’t try to convince her otherwise or send her on a guilt trip. Like a true Crow trained not to get sentimental, he respected her choice of not being sentimental.

He moved forward, still hiding in the shades of the trees, protected by faint moonlight’s glow and too much cheap mead consumed by his target. He went behind the cottage, sneaked quickly to the side, and in a fast move pulled her father away from anything he could use as a weapon: the axe still lodged into a log by the wall, a dagger that seemed to be recklessly left behind after sharpening, pieces of chopped wood that were so damp and covered with mould they had to be here for many months.

Father tried to put up the fight, but he was too old, too fat, too drunk, and too slow for a nimble, skilled elf.

She came out of the shadows and slowly moved toward them.

She heard her father shouting slurs at the Crow, which only angered her more. Couldn’t fight with skills, would fight with insults? While feeling bad for the choice of ammunition, she felt it would be additionally humiliating for him to be defeated by ‘merely a knife-ear’.

Finally the tiny elf locked her father in a grip he could not free himself from. He repositioned them, so that her old man could face her and clearly see her watching. The surprise on his face was immense. For a moment he stopped resisting, stunned by her indifference to what was being done to him… Or perhaps by her betrayal. She didn’t really care. She wanted him to know she had led his murderer to him.

“You bitch!” he yelled.

“For mother,” she mouthed quietly. The Crow slit his throat in one smooth move a moment later, then let go of the twitching body, and coldly watched him choke on his own blood and die.

He approached her. “Regrets?” he asked.

She shook her head. She watched her father’s body, not fully aware how much contempt was painted on her face. Then she looked at the elf. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Zevran Arainai, at your service.” He bowed like an aristocrat.

“Your hair is a mess again, Zevran.”

“Will you help me fix it, again?”

She smiled, raking his long wisps away from his face. “I will.” After a moment she added. “Nadami.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

“Flatterer.”

He only laughed.

Without even discussing it, they returned to the lake. Zevran needed to wash off blood. When he was out of the water again, she used her fingers to comb his long wet hair.

“Isn’t it easy to grab you by your hair in a fight?”

“Clearly not, because no one did so far,” he smiled.

“Do you want me to braid it again?” she asked.

“Maybe later,” he answered, untying the scarf she used as a belt.

He left on his way a week later, and she knew she’d miss him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Aren’t you a bit young?” the man asked Nadami.

She handed him a small box. “All you need is inside.”

He opened the box and inspected its content. Then looked at her, squinting his eyes. She knew that look. It wasn’t the first time she saw it, and most likely not the last. Why did they all think they could just cheat her out of her share for being ‘young’? “Time to pay for the delivery,” she said calmly, while fetching her dagger and playing with it seemingly absent-mindedly. He hesitated for a while longer, then apparently came to the conclusion it wasn’t worth the trouble, and threw a small sack toward her. Catching it, she felt its content. Coins. Good.

Without counting, she turned on her heel, put the hood back on her head, and disappeared in the shadow. She knew where to find him if he didn’t keep to his part of the agreement.

She walked toward the tavern she was staying at, by the force of habit hiding in shadows the night offered. She passed by a hooker.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” the woman said. “Bad things happening tonight.”

“Meaning what exactly?” she stopped and asked. “Have you seen anything interesting?” Information was her goods, having more was always worth the coin. She fetched one from the sack she had just been given and pushed it into the hooker’s hand.

“Tevinters. They’re always trouble.”

“What do they want here?” They were far from home.

“A group was headed north. Probably for the elves.”

There was a Dalish clan north from the town.

Her mind was telling her not to get involved, but her heart urged her to try to reach them and warn them. “When did they leave?”

“Not long ago. It wasn’t the only group, I heard. I didn’t see more but girls talked. Not much work done as long as they’re all here. The town isn’t safe yet. You’re young, healthy, strong. You’re not safe either. ”

“Neither are you.”

“I know how to take care of myself, sweetheart,” she smiled.

Nadani returned the smile. “So do I. But thank you.”

The heart won.

She rushed toward the Dalish camp, hoping that being alone and fast was enough to overtake a group of slow, lazy slavers in spite of their leaving earlier. She knew the elves would not welcome her warmly, but she wasn’t going there for a dinner party, just to warn them.

It was quiet, which she took as a good sign. The slavers hadn’t reached the camp yet, or she’d hear fighting.

She missed the first roaming halla, but not the second one. This was not good. There was still silence in the air, but she could smell it before she recognised it: blood and burning wood. She finally reach the camp – or what was left of it – and her pace slowed down. Pools of blood looking black in the weak moonlight spilling from bodies of old, who were useless to the slavers. Many dead were in their prime, meaning they died protecting their people. A construction of some sort was burning, a figurine next to it catching the fire.

She walked around the camp, checking if there were any survivors, any children hidden by their parents who would not make it one their own, any wounded who were missed but could still be helped. She was barely aware of tears filling her eyes, until she could barely see, and even then wrongly blamed the smog from burning camp facilities.

No one. The Tevinters left death and misery behind. Broken bodies of brave defenders. They hadn’t even spared most of hallas the clan had. She wondered if that wasn’t a preferable fate to what the captives were going to endure.

Eventually she dragged herself back to the town, and reached it just by the dawn. She knew she’d be haunted by what she’d just seen for the rest of her life. Things sometimes were ugly, but this was beyond regular ugly. This was horrifying ugly. Her imagination ran wild, putting pictures to the aftermath she’d just seen, and she was unable to stop it.

The town was still asleep, silent, filled with the smell of blossoming trees that grew in random places. A scream, muffled, then abruptly cut was out of place in the calm silence. She instinctively stepped into a shadow, listening carefully, but everything was quiet again.

She was almost at the tavern she stayed in when something started. Turmoil of some sort, with guards running about like their armours were on fire. Obviously, something had happened, but she didn’t care much. Numbed, tired, she just wanted to get back to her bed, and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling unable to fall asleep.

A hand on her shoulder startled her, and while her instincts flared up, she was far from able to defend herself. She scrambled for her weapon, twitching like a headless chicken.

“Calm down, calm down,” said familiar voice, holding her face between his hands.

“Zevran?”

“Pretty as always, my dear friend,” he grinned at her.

Suddenly, the noises in the otherwise quiet town, and the scrambling guards all over it looking for something – someone – made sense.

“Who did you assassinate?” she asked.

“The less you know, the better.”

She nodded. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“Do you–”

“Where–”

They both silenced, waiting for the other to finish. She signalled him to keep talking. “Do you have a place here?”

“You need to hide?” she asked, already pulling him into the tavern. She led him upstairs, where she had a tiny room all for herself. A filthy place, but she didn’t have to share it with anyone. She didn’t like sharing living quarters with strangers.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You look… pale. Lovely as always, but pale.”

For a moment she wondered if not to tell him, but she’d hear the same thing she always heard: she was too sensitive, caring too much about strangers, overreacting to stupid things outside her control. She just shook her head as her answer. You don’t go to a Crow for support of your emotional pain.

He sat next to her on what served as her bed, slid her hood back, removed her hair from her shoulder, and kissed her exposed neck. She smiled at him. Silly elf wouldn’t understand, but recognised she was in distress, and tried to cheer her up the only way he knew. Not that she would ever mind. Assassin or lover, he knew what he was doing.

Her fingers went to the tips of his ears.

“You’re the only one who does that,” he whispered. “I like when you do that.”

She put her other hand on his other ear, and looked into his honey-coloured big elven irises. He kissed her deeply, and all those feelings she had thought were long gone started blossoming in her heart anew.

She had been stupid. She had been just seventeen. He had impressed her. That wonderful week he had stayed after killing her father he’d taught her things. He’d taught her Crow things that made her a better warrior. He’d explored pleasure nodes on parts of her body she hadn’t known she even had. All that combined, and her stupid younger self had fallen in love with him. Never expecting to see him again, never expecting for this to become anything, she simply accepted that was all there to be.

And now, three years later he was here, and all those feeling she’d thought she was free from were back with full force. She was still young and stupid.

He removed her clothing, kissing each exposed part of her skin, taking special care with bruised places. She just laid on her back, stretched, and submitted to whatever he wanted to do. Too tired for more, she promised herself to make it up to him later.

If they had any later.

He was quiet. Leaving her to her thoughts, he took care of her body. Her hand absent-mindedly stroked his ears and hair, when his tongue was busy sending waves of pleasure through her. It did relax her somewhat, so when she felt him inside, she had enough energy not to leave everything to him.

Soon she was returning him all the passion he’d offered her, so they finished pouting, body to body on the narrow bed. She put her head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, which finally opened the cork of her emotions and she started to cry.

He didn’t ask, and she was grateful. She didn’t want to explain it; she just wanted to cry her emotional torment out. He stroke her hair gently, wiping her tears with his hand from time to time, and placing kisses on the top of her head. Finally, she fell asleep.

When she woke up, she was all alone in the bed. Disappointed that he could already be gone, she looked around. He was grooming his daggers.

“You take care of them as much as of me,” she commented.

“Feeling better?” he asked, looking up at her but not stopping his work.

She pondered the answer for a while. “I don’t know.” She watched him for a while. “When do you need to go?”

“I went downstairs to eavesdrop. People always like to gossip, you just need to listen.” The main meat of her livelihood – information and people who needed it. “They blocked all roads, waiting for someone suspicious trying to get out of the town, so…” He looked up at her with a question in his eyes, his hand hanging in the air, while he waited.

“So I can keep you for a bit longer,” she smiled. Her mood improved.

He resumed his work. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, this time not raising his eyes from his daggers.

“No. Talking won’t change anything.”

“Then maybe you should do something about it, yes?” he replied.

Easy to say. What could she do!

But his words resonated in her mind. It was too late for this clan, but maybe… maybe… An idea budded in her mind.

Forced to stay in town for a few days longer for Zevran’s sake, Nadami collected information. Her assassin friend suggested to get on a good side of local prostitutes, who could extract information from their clients for the right price, and the advice bore rich fruit. She knew secrets that could break families, ruin aristocrats, and enrage employers. If she was short on funds, blackmail could feed her, even if she wasn’t keen on the idea.

They spent their days on her training. He seemed to enjoy honing her abilities. They joked she should become invincible, trained by two different Crows of two different generations. She let him ink a pattern on her body. He jested it was his mark and now she belonged to him, having no idea how true his words were to her.

Their nights were filled with passion, and even he was surprised by how much fire she had within, but she wasn’t going to waste a minute with him on stupid boring sleeping, knowing very well that soon enough he’d leave, and possibly permanently this time. She wanted to carry as much in her memories, as she could.

“You’re too good to me,” she said one evening.

“You’re hiding a fugitive. He should pay you back somehow, no?” he gave her one of those naughty half-smiles.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“But it’s a decent thing to do.”

“Decent? You’re a Crow!”

“Yes, indeed. I’m a Crow, so I have a code, and paying my debts is one of the rules.”

“I don’t expect payment. I’m helping you because I want to.”

“And I do this because I want to.” He leaned closer and kissed her.

She wondered what would happen if he really fell for her? Would he end up like her father? Chased, ruined, betrayed by his own kid? She could see why the Crows were trained with no-attachment philosophy. For all she knew, her father could be the reason why they applied that rule, or why they enhanced it for better effectiveness of their assassins.

When things eventually calmed down, they left the town together, and split on the crossroads after he gave her a juicy kiss.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Nadami mumbled, as she was running behind the group not to lose them out of her sight. They disappeared in one of the guest houses, and she knew she was just about to lose her chance. She reached the door and almost tripped over the threshold, making a small noise.

A tall dark-haired man turned to look at her, then frowned. He was just about to walk away, when she gasped, catching her breath after the run. “I need to talk to Zevran.”

“He’s busy,” he barked, while Zev disappeared on a staircase with the girl, apparently unaware of the racket downstairs.

“It’s really really important.”

“He’s very very busy.”

“How about you give him the choice and let him decide,” she said defiantly.

He snorted and turned away.

Attacking a Crow was a death sentence, so that was out of the question. But she had other options. “I can warn your target,” she said.

The man turned back, and rushed toward her. She was ready, though, and slipped out of his grip easily. He fetched his weapon, and she knew the stakes just became very high, but refused to appear more threatening than necessary. She needed his co-operation, not hostility.

“No fighting here!” the small man behind the counter shouted, but he was ignored.

Fortunately for her, the Crow was a human, and she was a tiny woman not bigger than a small elf, so she hoped the trick would work. If not, she’d be dead, and not finishing her task wouldn’t matter.

She waited for him to charge at her, and when he did she ducked between his legs, slid to the other other side, and used her feet to entangle him and make him fall flat on his face. He rolled on his back almost immediately, but didn’t get up. Neither did she. She still needed to appear non-threatening.

“Where did you learn that?” he demanded furiously.

“I need to talk to the person who taught me that.” Belatedly she realised Crows’ secrets were supposed to be secrets, and she had just revealed to this guy that Zev had broken that rule. Idiot! Damn! Hopefully he’d keep it to himself, and not get her friend into trouble.

“No!” he bounced up, and rushed toward her.

Still on the floor, she wouldn’t have enough time to prepare any kind of defence, so that was just about it. The sword was swooshing toward her chest and merely inches from sinking in it, while she was backing out, kicking the floor, when a leg kicked the sword away.

“Stop!” Zevran stood between her and the man, facing him with his hands slightly raised. The noise the fight caused had to draw his attention, and lure him back downstairs just in time to save her life.

Nadami let her breath out with relief, and slumped to the floor flat on her back.

“What’s she to you?”

“That’s my business,” her friend said, while the other one eyed her angrily. “Taliesen, just go. I’ll deal with it.”

The girl pulled the man away, and they headed upstairs, while Zevran helped Nadami up.

“That was stupid,” he commented.

“All I wanted was to talk to you. He attacked me.”

They went outside. “It was reckless. Don’t do that ever again,” he said adamantly. “He would have killed you!”

“It’s important, Zevran. Very important.”

“Why?” His voice softened a bit.

They slowly walked toward the market. “I know who is your target. I need your target alive.”

The elf rolled his eyes. “You know you’re asking for impossible, yes?”

“I don’t need him permanently alive until old age. I need to him alive tomorrow. After that you can do with him whatever you want.”

“How do you know he’s our target?”

“I deal information, Zev. I know a lot of things.”

He was quiet for a long while. “Do you need to extract something from him?” he asked eventually.

“Yes.”

“We could do that before killing him.”

“No, you wouldn’t know what kind of questions to ask.”

“Rinna is good with information.”

Nadami stopped. “I do not outsource my work,” she said firmly. “Your Rinna can polish my shoes, for all I care. But she will not do my job better than me.”

“Defensive, no?”

For a moment she stared at him with disbelief. “You really aren’t going to help me?” she asked surprised.

He flinched, as if he was slapped.

She watched him for a moment, blinked her tears of disappointment away, and slowly started walking backwards with her eyes locked with his, then turned ready to leave. She had been so certain he’d help her that she hadn’t even considered the option of that not happening. Now she had to come up with a plan to get what she needed before the Crows would get their hands on him. For a second she also considered warning him in revenge.

She felt him grab her arm and turn her to face him. He took her head in his hands, and placed a kiss on her lips. She didn’t resist.

“Forgive me,” he said softly. “I can give you time until tomorrow afternoon. Maaaaybe ‘til sunset, but that is not certain. Would that be enough?”

“I’ll make it enough.”

“Good. You have it.” He kissed her again. “Busy until then?”

“Since I have so little time, yes. I can’t waste it.” She smiled. “Not that I’d consider you a waste of time,” she whispered.

“Dirty whore!” someone shouted. They looked to the loud passer-by, who spat at the ground by their feet.

Nadami put her hands on Zevran’s ears and gently stroked them, staring defiantly at the human. He only grunted, and went on his way.

She and Zevran looked at each other and burst into laughter. They kissed one more time, and then each went their separate way.

She needed to reach to her ‘target’, and she had very little time to do it.

The original plan was the gain access to him as a groomer, which would mean she could get into his chambers right before the ball he hosted. Now, with her time shortened, she needed to gain access much sooner. It looked like he would die at or even before the ball.

 

* * *

 

She appeared at the back door of the mansion a lot earlier than she was supposed to, but no one asked about that. They just let her in. She was led to a kitchen first, where lots of elves were busy cooking the best dishes she’d ever seen. The place was hot from all the fires and steaming pots, but also smelled really nice, making her hungry.

She was told to wait, so she waited. No one in the kitchen paid her any more attention than required to give her a ‘move’ glare, if she was in anyone’s way. She stepped aside swiftly.

After a while she started to wonder if they forgot about her. Or maybe she was to wait here until the agreed time, which defeated the purpose of coming in so early.

She was almost ready to try to sneak in on her own, when a servant of some sort came, and told her to follow him. She did, to be lead to a room that clearly was a bedroom.

“Your groomer, ser,” she was announced, and the servant left.

The man looked at her. He was a lot younger than she expected, or perhaps looked young for his age.

She bowed. “Ser.”

“I was told you know fashion from all over Thedas.”

“Yes, ser.”

“So you also know what Tevinters like and consider elegant.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Make me look attractive for a Tevinter magister.”

This was going to be a lot easier than most of her jobs.

“Certainly, ser. If that magister also a mage?”

“Aren’t they all?”

She set to work, directing the chatter toward his love interest, about whom he happily conversed. On the face of it her questions looked like curiosity about a charming lady, but without much effort she learnt a lot about her father, his slave trade, where from he took his ‘stock’ – she did all in her power not to flinch each time this word was used – and even more.

She almost pitied the poor sod for being so naive. Any compassion was effectively erased when he shared with her his idea of gifting a few of his servants to this magister. Whatever was the reason someone hired the Crows to eliminate him, he surely deserved it.

“Here.” He handed her a small chest after she was finished. “For your good job.”

She took it, and bowed. “Thank you, ser.”

“Clean up here,” he added, then left. While the door was open, she heard noises that suggested many guests had already arrived.

There were five small sacks of coin inside the chest, and a pretty comb with a flowery pattern painted on it.

She picked up her things, took two sacks and the comb out of the chest, and left the room. The same servant who’d brought her here waited for her outside. He led her out the back door, and her job was successfully finished.

She headed for the guest house where the Crows stopped.

“A human man, elven man and elven woman, can you deliver a message?” she asked the man behind the counter.

“The Crows?”

So he knew. “Yes.”

“I can.”

“There is something waiting for them in the bedroom. They should understand.” She gave him two coins. “For your trouble.”

He blew at them, then put in his pocket. She headed for the door, while he went upstairs.

On her way out of the town she gave the comb to a girl in rags she passed by. Either it’d be the prettiest thing she even owned, or sold to buy food or new clothes; it’d serve a better purpose either way.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Nadami didn’t like cities. They were loud, crowded and so filthy. Rats size of cats ran around like owning the place, and cats were nowhere to be seen. Maybe rats ate them.

Denerim was no different. She wasn’t sure why she expected this Big Important City to be a nice change. It was bigger than other cities, so the rats were bigger too. Big Important City – sarcasm was present even in her mind when she thought it, not just her voice when she talked about it – housed kings or some other Big Important People, who probably lived in Big Important Castles, but apparently regular folk lived in the same crap any other city offered their residents. Big Important Crap made by Big Important Rats.

She snorted at her own silly jokes, then looked around, but clearly no one noticed or cared. Cities offered something precious: no one paid attention to you. It was so easy to hide in a crowd.

There was a guard at the gate to the Alienage. It complicated things. She needed to get in without being noticed. She could bribe him, but leaving a trace of her entry was unacceptable, and she was not going to murder the poor sod for just doing his duty. She wondered if there was another way in. If the information was correct, there was a hidden way out. But it had to be hidden really well for no one to notice what was being transported out of the Alienage.

Or perhaps more bribes were at work.

The thought made her sick.

‘Concentrate,’ she chastised herself. She needed the list. That was her part in it, and she had to do her part.

She looked up, wondering if there was a way around on roofs. Of maybe she could take a ride under the belly of one of the rats.

The guard seemed to take interest in her, so she knew she overstayed. Trying to withdraw as if nothing happened, she realised that his attention was actually on a group of people who approached him. She was just about to leave, relieved she hadn’t screwed up, when she saw that one of them was no one else than Zevran!

She knew something had happened in the last year, and he was no longer with the Crows. The thought was so strange she wasn’t sure the information could be trusted, but she recognised the armour the human in his party wore: a Grey Warden. She had no idea what had caused this strange turn of events in her friend’s life, and she was dying to learn, but it was not the time or place.

As much as she wanted to catch his eye, his hand, his hair or – preferably – his ears, she had a job to do, and that took precedence over any fire burning in her heart.

The group went into the Alienage, and she wondered what kind of business they could possibly have in there.

She found a way onto a roof through a scaffolding someone placed to store their barrels of smelly substance. For all she knew it could be corpses rotting in there, based on the stench. She climbed on one of the barrels, trying to get higher, and her foot slipped. She grabbed a ledge not to fall, while the barrel threatened with falling off its shelf. She froze, hoping the noise didn’t alert anyone. Things seemed good, so she resumed her climb carefully, trying not to rush or to knock anything off.

Jumping from roof to roof, she hoped her sense of direction wasn’t fooling her. The route wasn’t as straight and easy as she hoped and she felt like she’d have to jump to Tevinter Imperium and back on roofs before finding a way into the Alienage. Sometimes she was close enough to hear the turmoil and shouting that was taking place over there, but still couldn’t get in. Eventually she found a building she could climb, and with a sigh of relief she slid to the edge of it to look into the elven enclave.

An ugly curse left her lips. While she could use this roof to get into the Alienage, it’d be the last thing she’d do, and the elves would then scrap her off the ground. There was a solid wall down, and it didn’t seem like she’d have any chance of climbing down, unless with a use of a super long rope she not only didn’t have, but also there was no place to tie it up here as well.

She looked down to see the Warden group leave a building. The human carried something in his hand. Scrolls or paper rolled into scrolls.

Was it what she thought it was? This could be either a serious complication or a great opportunity. If he didn’t hold what she needed, she could always come back and try to get it. If he did… She needed to talk to them. Normally she’s simply try to steal it but Zevran’s presence changed the ‘usual’. Not only she could talk to him, but also she didn’t want to steal from him.

She made her way down, almost breaking her neck twice due to rush, but she didn’t want to lose track of them, as they left the Alienage.

She followed them in a distance. She was additionally careful because she knew there was a good chance Zevran had eyes around his head, and who knows how skilled his company was. It became harder to hide once they left the streets and moved toward the outskirts of the town. Wherever they were headed, it was the country. She considered her options; following them out there in the open would be stupid, but guessing game of possible locations where they could be headed could cost her losing the track and losing them. She could just call Zevran’s name, but that idea appeared to be the worst of them all for some reason. She couldn’t even tell why, but things were never this easy.

They took a path into a forest, so she could relatively safely hide between trees. Sneaking in a distance, trying not to stray off the path too far, she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake assuming where they were going instead of following them and keeping an eye on their backs.

Suddenly the human Warden appeared seemingly out of nowhere right in front of her. She swallowed her surprised cry, while he grabbed her by the arm, fetching his sword with the other one.

“Why are you following us?” he squinted at her, nearing his face to hers.

She refused to answer. He disarmed her, then pulled toward the path. She didn’t resist. While it was not how she planned it, she was headed exactly where she wanted to go.

They followed the path to finally reach a small clearing with a small camp.

“You were right, we were followed,” he said, clearly to someone sitting at the fire in the middle of the camp.

“Still can’t get used to it, mmm?” Zevran answered, not turning around. Then he got up, faced them, recognised her and for a second froze with surprise. Then he stretched his arms toward her. “Nadami!” he shouted happily.

The human let her go, but watched her carefully. She stepped away from him, then looked back at Zevran, who was confused by her cold reaction. “No hug for old Zev?”

“You know her?” Nadami recognised the asker as the elf who also was in the Alienage.

“She’s my dear dear friend,” he answered. “Come,” he gestured to Nadami. “Your instincts are blunt, what happened to you?” He pointed at a blanket rolled by the fire, inviting her to sit down. She looked down at it, then at him. “You’re wondering what is going on, yes?”

She was confused.

“There is a reason you followed us,” the human said, going to the fire and sitting down. “Now that you are here, you can tell us why. My name is Alistair, by the way.”

Zevran sat on his blanket, then pulled her down, forcing her to sit next to him. “Where you following us to have one more look at my incredibly handsome face?” he whispered loudly, and a few around the fire giggled.

She was already angry at herself for the failure, so being mocked didn’t make her feel any better. “When did you realise you were followed?”

“Let’s just say, spying on people in the open, flat land is not wise.” She had known it was a bad idea. “This is Nimloth,” he introduced the other elf, then pointed at a dwarf. “And Oghren– where are you going?”

“To find that bottle. Your dear dear friend looks like she needs a drink.”

“You’re the wardens, aren’t you?” she asked. “Wasn’t there a bounty on your heads?”

“Is that the reason you followed?” the elf woman asked.

“No.”

She didn’t elaborate, and after a long moment of awkward silence Zevran gave her a strange look. Then he got up, pulled her up, then pulled toward the tree line. “Let’s talk,” he said.

She followed him. He stopped by a tree behind one of the tents. They still could see the fire and dark figures of the campers, but had enough privacy for a conversation.

“You want to catch up first, or state your reasons first?” he asked, sitting down on the grass.

She sat on her heels, facing him. “I heard you left the Crows. Is that true?” He nodded. “Why?”

“I… ahhh… failed my task. And I was adopted by my target. And now I’m here!” he cheerfully gestured around.

Her anger and embarrassment started to give way to the old feelings. Less then a moment with him, and the world was better. “So you travel with Grey Wardens and fight darkspawn?”

“A great adventure!”

“If you say so.”

He gave her a worried look. “What is wrong? Why did you follow us? You’re information broker. Did you spy on us? Did someone hire you to–”

“It has nothing to do with you,” she interrupted him.

“Even me?” he asked innocently, and she felt a strong urge to kiss him. Her body moved toward him, but he raked his hair aside, effectively blocking her out with his arm.

She couldn’t get a more resounding, brutal ‘no’ even if he slapped her. She tried to compose herself, confused by his flirting and subsequent rejection. Not sure what to say, she sat in silence.

“So what is it about?” he asked.

“It’s something I have to discuss with your Wardens, not you.” She got to her feet.

He quickly rose. His facial expression showed he belatedly realised he’d hurt her. “Nad, I’m sorry.”

She ignored him. She headed back to fire, then sat at it on the opposite side from where Zevran’s blanket was.

“I owe you an explanation,” she said, looking from one Warden to another. “My name is Nadami, and I currently work for Orlesians, helping them to find and curb shipments of slaves to the Tevinter Imperium.” Her words seem to catch their attention. Also Zevran returned to the fire, and sat down. “I managed to buy information about illegal smuggling of Denerim elves up north, and that the documents that prove it could be found in the Alienage. I know you retrieved the documents.”

“We can’t give you those papers. We need them too,” Alistair said.

“I don’t need them. I only need to know what they contain.” She paused. How much could she tell them? How much should she? She knew they were good people, not scum, but still… she couldn’t risk her integrity by divulging too much to bystanders. “I need one list.”

Alistair and Nimloth looked at each other.

“What is on that list?” Nimloth asked.

“It’s a list of captains and ships that transport slaves across Waking Sea.”

“What do Orlesians do with that kind of list?” the elf Warden prodded.

“They use it to capture those captains red-handed, then hang them, as they do with all slavers.”

Zevran’s face stretched in a big smile. “You finally found your thing, yes?”

“Finally? I found it long ago, right after you told me to do something about… something.”

“You’re welcome.”

Alistair completely ignored Zevran. “So you say you don’t really need the document, just know its content. Would your employers believe you? Without proof?”

“I’m in information business. I wouldn’t be long in it if I fabricated what I sold.” She smirked. “I’d tell you I’m one of the best, but I was just outwitted by a Crow, so that claim would sound hollow.”

“I’d say,” the human smirked.

“That’s a little insulting!” Zevran laughed.

Nimloth was reading through the papers she’d retrieved from a sack. “Are you sure that list is here?”

“No. I know it was in the possession of people who were in the Alienage. If it’s not here, it’s still there.”

The elf stopped paging through the documents and stopped on one. Zevran moved closer to her to read over her shoulder, and Nadami didn’t miss the gentleness with which he touched the other elf’s hand.

And everything became crystal clear.

She looked away from them, and her eyes landed on Alistair, who was observing her. “What happens if you can’t deliver this information?” he asked.

“That smuggling scum won’t be caught, and they’ll continue their appalling activity.” She said it a lot harsher than she intended. “Sorry. I’m a little passionate about my job.”

He smiled, the first time since she saw him. “There is nothing wrong with being passionate about doing good deeds.”

“Zevran, you know her,” Nimloth said. “Can she be trusted?”

“Yes.”

“Just ‘yes’?” Alistair asked, raising his eyebrow.

“That was a ‘yes no’ question. I can elaborate, if you wish, but if you trust my judgement, then how I deliver it shouldn’t matter, no?”

“What else could I need a list of captains for?”

“Sell it, blackmail them, warn them, and probably a few more things I can’t think of right now.”

“You make very good points, Alistair, but let me yell you this: if I lie, the procedure will continue; if I tell the truth, it can be halted and maybe some day stopped. Would your conscience allow you to take the risk of not helping me?”

It was a long shot. She was fully aware that people were indifferent, and couldn’t care less about fate of others. She could be shooting blind at a target that didn’t even exist. She had never told Zevran what was in her head – and heart – and he was her strongest ally here. She thought of him as a friend but she also knew a Crow wouldn’t forge that kind of relationship or any kind of relationship for that matter. That bore complications, so they were trained not to care about people.

Alistar stood up and went to rummage in a bag that lay by one of tents. He returned with tools to write. He handed them to Nadami. “Copy your list.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” she smiled at him, then took the papers Nimloth was giving her. She stretched them on a dry blanket, and started writing.

 


	6. Chapter 6

They invited her to stay over for the night, and she accepted. She regretted it as soon as she saw Zevran disappearing in the same tent the elf Warden went to. She knew she lost him, but she didn’t have to _see_ it.

She brought the blanket Leliana had given her closer to the tree line, and made a bed there. She was tired, but not sleepy, and she couldn’t get her mind off Zevran and his new girlfriend, so she sat, wrapped her arms around her knees and looked at the stars. She noticed Alistair coming toward her, carrying something.

“May I?” he asked.

“Please.” She moved aside, making some space for him on the blanket.

He offered her some cheese. “How long have you known him?”

“Long long.”

“From Antiva?”

“No. My father was Antivan, but I grew up in Ferelden. There was an Antivan connection, though.”

“Am I too nosy?” He seemed to assume her restrain in details was secrecy.

She laughed. “No, I just don’t think you want to hear my family’s full history. I met Zev when I was very young, and he was on the job. I helped him. Then we met by coincidence again, and I helped him again. Then he helped me. Then we met again, and simply spent time enjoying each other’s company. Then I helped him without him even knowing.”

“Oh? How?”

“A few months ago I killed a Crow who had been sent after him.”

“We had such an encounter recently. With someone named Taliesen.”

That caught her attention. “Really? What happened?”

“He told the guy he would not re-join the Crows and then helped us to kill him.”

“He helped to kill Taliesen?”

“That means something?”

“It was someone close to him at one time.”

“Zevran cannot be trusted.”

She smiled. “It’s not that simple. He can be loyal to a fault, but he wouldn’t be loyal blindly. He chose you, and stayed with you. Isn’t that loyalty too?”

That gave Alistair a pause. “Perhaps. Or maybe it’s just convenience. He didn’t want to re-join his old life.”

“Because being a respected and feared Crow is so much worse than being eaten by darkspawn.”

“I see your point,” he said slowly.

“He was asked to vouch for me, instead I vouch for him,” she laughed. “I don’t know if it means anything to you, but I’d trust him with my life. Always.”

“Why?”

“Because I know him. Don’t let the exterior that turns everything into a joke fool you there’s an idiot under it. I think it’s his defensive mechanism to deal with crap of life. We exchanged our stories, and I understand how he thinks. My father was a Crow, and they all share some things. I could count on him when I needed it. And he can count on me.”

“There is more to it than that.”

She knew what he meant. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It influences your thinking.”

“He’s in _her_ tent. My thinking is influenced by logic and past experience.” She just couldn’t hide her irritation that he refused to drop the subject.

But he got the message. “So you help save slaves. An unusually narrow, specific profession.”

“You fight darkspawn. It’s narrow and specific too.”

“All right, you have a point.” He paused. “That makes you a good person. I’m not sure what such a good person could be doing with someone like Zevran.”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as you think.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you need to choose your friends better.”

“He’s the only one I ever had. It’s either him or I’m alone, and I don’t want not to give him up because I’d end up alone.” She looked at Alistair. “You spent quite some time with him. Do you still think some day he’ll poison your food, and stab you in the back while you’re fighting a monster?”

“No,” he answered at once. Then repeated it again, slower and quieter. “No.”

“You never really re-evaluated your first impression, did you?”

“He didn’t make a good one.”

“How many of us do? I followed you and got caught like an amateur. You held me so tightly I thought you’d break my arm.”

Alistair smiled and gave her another piece of cheese. “Sorry about that. I expected you to try to twist away and run. Do you get caught often?”

“Am I still alive, is that what you’re asking?”

He laughed. “So how come you got caught this time?”

“Maybe instinctively I knew I was in no danger. Even if you lot were a bunch of scum, he wouldn’t let you hurt me.”

“You certain of that?”

“Absolutely. I could simply call his name in Denerim and accompany you – or not, depending on your willingness – to your camp. I didn’t do it, because I don’t know you, and I can’t trust you. My plan was to follow you, watch you, and then decide whether I steal your documents, or ask for a copy politely.”

“Would you ask him to steal them for you in secret?”

She pondered the question. “I didn’t think of that option.”

“Were would be his loyalty then?”

She didn’t have an answer to that. For a moment. “With her,” she said eventually, hoping her bitterness was well hidden.

How was that even possible that his closed, cold heart opened. How come she never managed to open it? Was it because he wasn’t a Crow any more now, so he dropped the Crow act? Or was it because she just… wasn’t enough for him? The thought stung painfully.

“He’d try to convince me to talk to you, and we’d end up in the same situation we’re now.”

“You’d listen to his advice?”

“I trust him, remember? And would it be a bad advice?”

“I suppose not. I think this is the best solution. And if you need more help with something, we’ll be in Denerim for quite a while, although not camped here.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to deliver the list.”

“We stopped the kidnappings in the Alienage.”

“So one captain will have an empty ship when he leaves for his destination. Plenty more out there to do their nasty job.”

“You said your father was a Crow? Like him?”

She chuckled. “A year ago I’d tell you that not at all like him, but now? Now there’s so many similarities it’s hilarious. You see, the Crows are trained to be cold and heartless. Kinda necessary if your job is to take lives. But you can’t remove feelings from a person. They didn’t remove them from my father. He fell in love, ran away with that girl, and they tried to settle here in Ferelden.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes. A life in hiding, you see. You don’t just leave the Crows, not alive, anyway. He knew they would look for him, he constantly watched his back, and he trained me to be able to defend myself in case I would be a target too. Zevran was sent to find him and kill him.” She giggled again. “It’s quite funny to see he now fell into the same trap – fell for a skirt, left the Crows, and is now hunted by them.”

“So your skills come from your father?”

“Initially, yes. Zevran honed them. Then life honed them some more by necessity.”

“Raised by heartless, trained by heartless, but so full of heart herself,” Alistair smiled at her.

“You’re so cute,” she replied, and he blushed. “So what’s your story?”

“Nothing as spectacular. A former Templar, currently a Grey Warden. Not much there.”

“A life of service, then. Did you ever have a choice?”

“There are many things I did not choose. I take it as it goes.”

“Don’t we all?”

They sat in silence for a while.

“I keep you up, don’t I?” he asked, rising. “Have a good night, Nadami.”

“You too, Alistair.”

He left, leaving her to her thoughts, but somehow in a lot better mood than before.

The morning started early in the camp. Zevran woke her up, gave her a mug of cold water to help her shake off her usual after-sleep grogginess, and helped her roll the blanket.

“You need to leave Denerim soon?” he asked.

“Yes. This information is urgent. It can save many lives.”

He nodded with understanding.

Alistair and Leliana insisted that she stayed for morning meal, so she did. “You’re too good to me,” she told them.

She was ready to go, but there was one more thing she wanted to do before leaving. Everybody was busy packing the camp up by now. She went to Alistair.

“I hope to see you again some day,” she said.

“Likewise,” he smiled at her. She gave him a big hug. “What? Oh? Oh!” He returned it, and gave her a bear squeeze.

“Thanks for the talk last night. I didn’t know I needed it but I really needed it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They disengaged. She grabbed her stuff, and headed for the path out of the clearing into the forest. She was at the tree line, just about be safely hidden by shadows, when she heard Zevran calling her name. She’d hoped he wouldn’t realise she’d left until she was completely gone. She knew she was petty, and jealous, and behaving like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. She stopped. His steps slowed down from run to walk, when he was close.

“You wanted to leave without a goodbye?” he asked exasperated raising his hands into the air, then letting them drop with a slap on his thighs.

She turned to face him. “Goodbye, Zev.”

He approached her. “I never told you how grateful I am for your help in the past. You never asked for anything in return.”

“Now you helped me, so we’re even,” she answered coldly.

He frowned. “This is not a transaction, Nam, this is friendship,” he said softly, disarming her defences. His heart was opened for her too, just differently.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he held her tight. She enjoyed the smell of his hair, then stepped back, but not before stealing the last stroke of the tip of his ear. He grabbed her hand, and held it there cupping his ear for a moment. Then he moved her hand to his lips, gently kissed, let go, and bowed. “Get those slavers,” he said.

“I will!” she promised.

She wondered, if it was the last time she’d see him.


	7. Chapter 7

Not long ago Fenris had told her she was the best thing in his life, and now he saw her kissing another man. Like everything else, this also fell apart, leaving him broken and alone. He bitterly watched them, waiting for them to disengage. They finally did, and Hawke spotted him. He turned on his heel, and walked away. He could hear her fast footsteps gaining on him.

“Fenris!” she called. “Fenris, stop!” He didn’t even slow down. She reached him and grabbed his arm.

“Don’t touch me!” he roared, turning to her, flaring up and tearing his arm out of her grasp. “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

“Fenris, I’m sorry.”

“Phh!” he grunted and resumed his walk.

“Fenris!” she called after him, but didn’t try to chase him any more.

He was done. He was done with people, with trust, with everything. Done with this cursed city. Time to board a ship and get the hell out of this place. Leave everything behind, and never look back. Go ahead, and…

And what?

He was almost home when he saw a shadow hidden by the plants near the door. A familiar face with three wavy lines tattooed on his left temple and cheek.

“Are you waiting for me?” he asked. His anger found its way into his voice.

“I am. Nice house.”

“What do you want?”

“I need help.”

“And why would I help you?”

“Fair enough.” He stood up, and headed toward the staircase.

“You won’t try to convince me, bribe me, offer a debt to pay back later?”

“Would it work?”

“No.”

“Then it would be a waste of my and your time, no?”

Without a word, the elf turned away and unlocked the door. He opened it, then turned back toward the leaving man. “Zevran, wait!” He hoped he remembered the name right. It’s been quite a while since they actually talked the last time. The other one stopped and turned to him. “Come on in!” Fenris invited him. He didn’t want to be alone. He knew he would think and overthink, and then think some more, so a distraction and a conversation could help him get through this terrible feeling of betrayal. It was a lot better perspective than tossing in his bed through a sleepless night.

Zevran seemed to hesitate for a moment, then accepted the invitation, and throttled into the house.

“You need to hire a cleaner,” he said after looking around.

“Feel free to clean to your heart’s content,” Fenris grumbled. Zevran laughed as if it was the best joke he ever heard. “You want wine?”

“Depends. Wine wine or burn-your-gut wine?”

“The last bottle the former owner of the house had.”

“Sounds good.”

They sat in one of the rooms downstairs, sharing a bottle of good vintage. “So what is it that you need of me?” Fenris asked.

“A place to hide. I’d be out of your hair soon enough, but need a place to stay for a couple of days. I can clean, if you wish it.”

“Someone chasing you again?”

“There is always someone chasing me as soon as they realise the last one failed.”

“Life on the run. Sounds so familiar.” Fenris sipped on his beverage.

“It’s not so bad. I travel a lot.”

“So you have no safe place, no home, no friends, no goal, just look over your shoulder all the time, waiting for someone to catch up with you and sink a weapon in your back.”

“Everywhere is dangerous, even home – your own husband can beat you to a pulp and your own daughter can lead an assassin to you to watch you get killed – friends don’t need staying in one place, goals can require travelling anyway, and watching over your shoulder is a good advice for anyone.”

Left corner of Fenris’s mouth twitched up in a tiny smile. “We never thanked you for your help.”

“My help? As I recall, you helped me kill my assassins, and then let me go. You could make a goooood coin by selling me to the Crows.”

“I don’t _sell_ _people_ ,” Fenris grumbled offended. “They’d kill you, wouldn’t they?”

“Oh, yes! And it wouldn’t be the first time I was sold.”

“You came to help with Meredith. With her… magic.” He spat.

“Ah, this. I figured, we’d all be in trouble if she won. Walking giant statues can be unhealthy to the population. So all in all, it was self-service.”

“Still, you disappeared as unexpectedly as you appeared, so we never had a chance to thank you.”

Zevran drank some of his wine. “Good wine.”

“Where will you go now?”

“I’ll go after him, haha!”

“Is it a game to you?”

“So far I’m winning!” he took another sip. “Why aren’t you celebrating with the Champion?” Fenris didn’t answer. Instead, he downed his glass, then looked into its emptiness. “I see.” Zevran’s voice took a softer tone.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” the taller elf said, changing the subject.

“I appreciate it.”

Fenris filled up their glasses full again. “To being hunted,” he said, raising his.

Zevran laughed, and mirrored the gesture. “And outwitting our hunters!” he added. He comfortably leaned back in his chair, put his feet on the table – Fenris noticed his boots had a horrible unfinished leather smell – and then… the old chair gave in under the small elf, and fell apart. He fell on his back, spilling the wine all over his clothes. He lay there on his back for a moment, until he saw Fenris leaning over him. “Great house,” he said, and the Tevinter started laughing, spilling even more wine over him.

Zevran got up, and started taking off his wet, stained armour. Fenris watched him, sipping on what was left in his glass. “Oh, you have more of them,” he said, pointing at tattoos on Zev’s body.

“Do yours go all the way dow–” He didn’t finish, as his eyes went to Fenris’s feet, and he saw there were white markings on them too. “I wouldn’t mind studying them,” he added.

“For what purpose?” Fenris frowned suspiciously.

“I like pretty things. I like handsome people even more.”

The frown dissolved into something else, something that made Zevran give him a lopsided grin.

“In which room can I drop all this?” the Antivan elf asked.

“I sleep in the one in the middle upstairs–”

“So I go to the middle one, yes?”

“–so either one on the left or right is yours.”

Zevran left the room, before Fenris registered what he’d said, so he followed the other elf to see where he was going, and already regretted inviting him in. But the Antivan chose the room on the left and disappeared behind the door there.

‘He jokes all the time. I can never tell when he’s serious,’ Fenris thought, returning to the room. Then smiled at his own thought; he on purpose told his jokes without cheerful voice to confuse others in the exactly same but opposite manner. Varric’s face was a precious reward for doing that.

Soon Zevran was dry and back, and they spent most of the night talking.


	8. Chapter 8

Nadami entered the house, and threw her backpack into a corner. She was tired and hungry, so for a moment she wondered whether she was more tired or more hungry. Hunger won, so she went deeper into the house to find the kitchen. Not that it was a difficult task. Most of houses in this region were built in the same way.

She dragged her things in, and started to look for whatever food she had left. Some – to her disgust – was spoiled, so she threw it away. Not much was left after that; she had to go hunting again soon. But not tonight.

Only now she registered that the house was unusually clean, and bore signs of recent repairs. The Blight had left many empty homes. Some inhabitants had left and never returned, some had died, all of them had had left their lives behind, which by now were covered with spider webs and thick layers of dust. But not here.

She didn’t finish fully forming her idea that she wasn’t here alone, when her ears caught a sound. Upstairs. She listened carefully, but there were no more noises. She couldn’t ignore that, however. If those were people, she needed to know. If those were animals, she also had to know. She was going to sleep here, and she didn’t want to get killed in her sleep… and possibly eaten afterwards.

She took out one of her daggers, and headed toward the stairs. She tried to be as quiet as possible not to warn whoever was up there. Sneaking by the wall, she listened. There were three rooms, and the door to one was closed. She checked the first room. It was small, and empty. The other opened one was much bigger, with a sleeping mat on the floor, but also seemed to be empty. She was already turning around to leave it, when a thin wailing reached her ears. She closed the door to trap the intruder inside with her, and raised her dagger.

“Please, don’t kill us,” a voice said.

“Show yourself!” she demanded.

And elven man came to the light. “I mean no harm. I didn’t mean to steal anything. I just wanted a safe place for the night.”

She squinted at him. “I want to see your hands.”

He raised them. Empty. “Please, I’ll just go. I’ll find another house.”

“You’re hurt?” she asked. There was a dark stain on his shirt, and it looked like blood.

“Um… it’s just a scratch,” he said. “We– I needed a shelter. A bear attacked me. I couldn’t stay in the forest.”

“Who is here with you?”

“No one.”

“You said ‘we’ and ‘us’.”

“A force of habit. My companion died. The bear killed him.”

She lowered her dagger. He didn’t seem to be in a condition to be a threat to her. “Why are you in this room?”

“We heard someone coming in.” He closed his eyes. “I mean, I heard someone coming in. So I hid. I thought maybe the owners returned.”

“Did you clean here?” she asked.

“No. I mean yes.”

“You’re not alone here,” she stated. She put her dagger away. “I don’t mind your presence here, as long as you don’t mind mine. I’m also just looking for a shelter for the night.”

“We ca– I can find another house.”

“Stop that. Where is your companion?” The elf looked worried. “I won’t hurt him. I have some food. Not much, but should still feed three.” A boy of maybe fourteen came out of the shadow. “Hi there,” she said to him.

The man turned to him, and sighed. Then looked at her. “We haven’t eaten anything more than berries for a couple of days. I know nothing about living in wilderness.”

“A city elf?” she asked, opening the door.

He nodded. “I’m a carpenter.”

“Come downstairs.” That explained the repairs. She left the room. They followed her.

She shared her food with them. The elf introduced himself as Rakeen, and the youngster as Eeyo. The boy was very quiet, and the man – based on their familiarity she guessed they were father and son – wasn’t much more chatty either. The father didn’t eat much, and gave most of his share to his child.

“Was it really a bear?” she asked after they finished the food, and the boy went upstairs to sleep.

“Why would I lie?

“I’m going to hunt tomorrow. If there really is a bear, I need to be careful. If not, I’ll have more freedom of movement.”

He lowered his head. “No, it wasn’t a bear.”

“Does the wound still hurt?”

“It… it’s not healing. I think it’s getting worse.”

“Can I see?”

He hesitated for a moment, but then raised his shirt to show her. It was infected, and really really bad. “How long ago did this happen?” she asked shocked.

He just shrugged. “Long. We…”

“You’re in danger.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I just want to get my son to safety. I don’t care what happens to me.”

“Where are you taking him?”

“His mother’s clan.”

“I didn’t know there were any Dalish in this neighbourhood.”

“They don’t spread the news of their location to sha–” The racial slur died on his lips before he finished it. “Sorry.”

She smiled at him. She reached to her pack. “Here, this could help a bit.” She handed him an ointment she had made from certain herbs and healing plants.

“You won’t ask?”

“If you want to tell me what happened, do so. If you don’t, you’d make up another lie as an answer.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” she smiled again. This definitely was a defenceless city dweller. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t matter to me. You want to share, I’ll listen. You want to keep it secret, it’s yours.”

“People came to the Alienage. Armed. They started taking away young and fit. Killed elders. Some put up a fight, and most of them also...” he gasped, trying to control his emotions.

“In silver armours? And helmets like this?” She motioned around her head, drawing shapes in the air. He nodded. “I know who they were,” she growled. Tevinter slavers on a hunt.

“Guard came, and a fight broke. I was scared for Eeyo’s life in that chaos.”

“Where’s his mother?”

“She died a few years ago.”

“You kept in touch with her clan?”

“I did. I hope they welcome him.”

 

* * *

 

She got up early to have some food for the morning meal. She picked berries, herbs, if she spotted any, and a few furry critters that were fast but not fast enough to avoid her arrows.

“The Dalish are going to teach me to hunt too!” Eeyo welcomed her at the door upon her return. He helped her to carry everything inside.

“I’m sure,” she smiled at him.

“They have a Keeper, and hunters, and warriors, and they know all about elven culture!” She couldn’t stop smiling at the boy’s enthusiasm. “They travel a lot, too! Go and see places. I’ve only seen our city. It’s very big, but I like it here more. It’s not so loud. And birds sing.”

Rakeen started helping her prepare the meal. “Sit down, you already did a lot,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

She sat at the table, while the boy ran outside. “Eeyo is quite excited about this trip.”

“Fortunately, yes. He always like stories about adventures. Read all kinds of books as soon as he learnt to read. I’m a bit worried he’s going to be disappointed by the reality.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“Listen… There is… I don’t have much, but you are skilled at surviving, and fight, and going through the forest.”

“Yes?”

“We still have a long trip ahead of us, and I don’t even know if I am aware of all possible dangers. Would it be possible to… um… hire you to protect us? I’ll give you all I have as the payment.”

She was on her way to where they had come from, but she also wasn’t in rush to get there. “How far away is that clan?”

“I think eight days,” he replied. He fetched a map and pointed to a place south from their current location.

She studied the map for a moment. “More like fourteen. Also, here,” she said, pointing at a spot, “was quite overrun by darkspawn. I don’t think anyone has ventured there since, so no one knows if it’s safe now.”

“The Blight was years ago!”

“Do you want to risk your son’s life to take a short cut?” He only shook his head vigorously. “Safer is better. Longer, but better.” She took another look at the map. “There are three villages on the way. We should be able to get some supplies there, but it’s better not to stay too close. Especially here.” She pointed to one.

“Does it mean you agree?” he asked with hope.

She nodded. She couldn’t just leave them.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning Fenris found Zevran in one of the rooms downstairs, studying a painting.

“Were you ever tempted to draw pointy ears on that guy?” the former Crow asked.

“No, why would I?”

“It’s your home. You could claim he was your ancestor.”

“You can’t be serious. Besides, it wasn’t my home when it was decorated..”

“Why not? Maybe this was Danarius’s ancestor. Danarius stole your past, it’s only fair you steal his, yes?”

Fenris looked at him irritated. “It wasn’t really his home either. Do you have to turn everything into a joke?”

“Everything is a joke.”

“Is that so? These.” He stretched his arms. “Do you think I was laughing when they were carved into me?”

Zevran gave him a look with one raised eyebrow. “Maybe if someone made you laugh more often, you wouldn’t use them as a weapon in every other conversation.”

“I can’t believe you!” He really tried to turn that into a joke, too!

“Life is full of crap. It happens. To everyone. The only difference in how much and how often. If we only thought about crap, we’re better die with the first breath we take after coming out of our mothers. There’s more to life than just crap, so take it, and make your life better. Bury the crap in flowers. Grow the flowers on it.”

“Zevran the philosopher,” Fenris snorted and walked away.

“You need to smile more. You’re handsome when you smile!” Zevran shouted after him.

“Idiot!”

“I’m going to draw ears!” There was no answer, so the Antivan went to search for something to make his idea real. There had to be a study here with pens.

He finally reached a room that looked like it could contain useful tools. He went to the desk, but stopped before reaching it.

To his left there was a wall of bookshelves with many books on them. Also, there were gaps between. But that wasn’t what had drawn Zevran’s attention. In the middle of the room there was a pile of ash. He neared it to see it was burnt paper. Small pieces had survived, and out of curiosity he picked up one. It was too tiny to make out what the book could be about; merely a few random words.

“I thought you were defacing paintings.” Fenris’s voice coming from the doorway startled him. The Tevinter moved soundlessly, like a halla. To think of it, he looked a bit like a halla.

“You mean I was just about to re-ear them, not de-face them,” Zev answered and laughed at his own joke. The other elf gave him a ‘not funny’ look. “What did you do here?”

“Burnt what should be burnt.”

“Not a fan of reading? And here I thought you were smart and educated.”

“Danarius didn’t think reading was a skill I needed,” Fenris growled.

Zevran smirked. “So you burnt his books in revenge?”

“No,” the other elf sighed. “Hawke taught me to read. And when I learnt words ‘magic’ and ‘blood’, I came here, found all books on the subject, and burnt them.” The Antivan looked at the books still on the shelves, and indeed, he couldn’t see any on mage practices. “I’m not a fool, I know there are other copies of the same, and even more written, but I needed to do this. Even at the risk of burning the whole house accidentally.”

“And you’re giving me a hard time for wanting to draw ears!” Fenris opened his mouth to reply, but changed his mind. He only rolled his eyes at the Antivan. Then turned and left the room. “You’re a lot more fun after a bottle of wine!” Zevran shouted after him, then went to the desk to search for a writing tool. “And disarmingly handsome either way,” he mumbled to himself.

For a moment, his own words gave him a pause. It’s been a long while since he thought about anyone that way. Since he wanted to get closer to anyone than just few remarks meant as a pleasant and innocent teasing. His interest in anyone – either romantically or physically – since Nimloth’s death was non-existent. Ten years and counting… but maybe not. Not the first time in the last year his thoughts went to Nadami. He hadn’t seen her for years. The last time they spoke they had little time, and he kept it strictly platonic, not ready for anything more. He was sorry for torturing her heart like that, but couldn’t help it. She also seemed to understand, and had never pressed or brought up the subject. Best friend he could ever have.

But in the last year, he wondered if not to find her. And if not to give her what she wanted. The thought was pleasant and filled his heart with warmth and longing. He had been too stupid to appreciate her presence in the past, and had realised she loved him only when he’d seen her face back then in the camp near Denerim. A face of someone with a broken heart watching her love being happy with another woman. Yet, she still remained his friend, even though he knew she had been hurting. When three tears ago they’d completed together a small job, she had been her old self. Calmer, perhaps. He had hoped she’d found someone, but now the thought felt like a lost chance.

And now Fenris. Making him feel like he hadn’t felt for ages.

“Zevran, your brain will fry if you don’t stop,” he mumbled to himself, grabbed a thick pen with ink, and left the room.

 

* * *

  
Fenris wondered if Zevran was joking about the painting, but soon he discovered that the answer to that was ‘no’. Every other painting had now pointy elven ears. They grew progressively larger with each painting, then a beard on a stocky man’s face, and eventually Qunari horns on another poor victim of Zevran’s need to art. The last painting in the hall had elven ears, bangs, and a second pair of deeply frowning eyebrows. Two wavy lines on the chin completed the image.

“Is that supposed to be me?” he shouted loudly, hoping the other elf would hear him, wherever he was.

“You like?” came a muffled by walls answer. Fenris chuckled. It was not funny, and yet it was funny. Zevran materialised next to him, handing him a pen. “Wanna join?”

The Tevinter eyed him, took the pen, went to the nearest clean painting, and drew three wavy lines on the face. “You like?” he mimicked Zev’s earlier question.

“Hmmm...” The Antivan put a finger to his chin, critically studying the work. “I like a lot more that you didn’t need to take a good look at me to do it right.” He wriggled his eyebrows at Fenris. “Memorised them already, mmm?”

The other elf rolled his eyes, then turned away to hide his smile. Zevran had a magical skill of improving his mood. He was both frustrating with his deflection of seriousness, and amusing with his silly, irresponsible jokes. Fenris turned around, and watched the Antivan walk away. Short, even for an elf, but pleasantly muscular, he walked stomping in his boots on the hard floor. He raked his beautiful, thick, long blond hair off his face with his fingers and kept it on the top of his head for a moment, before letting go. As expected, the wisps flowed back to crown his face. Fenris felt certain parts of his body warm up at the view, so he turned away and returned to his room.

They had spent most of the last night exchanging stories, and Fenris in a way admired Zevran’s positive attitude after all that had been done to him. He had an ability to brush it off as unimportant, and concentrate on what little good was there. He’d casually dismissed beatings he’d suffered as a child, while concentrating on a pair of gloves he’d lost anyway. Owning them was the focal point of the story; all the bad surrounding it was merely a footnote. The Tevinter craved to spend more time with this cheerful elf, to bathe in his sunny attitude, to watch him gesture as he talked, to listen to his cute accent and ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘mmm?’ dropped at the end of sentences.

Now, on the run longer than Fenris had been, he could still enjoy the day and laugh at silly things. And if he didn’t have silly things to laugh at, he’d ridicule the serious ones.

 

* * *

 

From the corner of his eye Zevran realised Fenris was standing in the doorway. He turned his head away from the view outside of the window to see the Tevinter watching him with an intense gaze. His assassin instincts flared up; his muscles tensed and his attention was fully on the other elf expecting absolutely anything. He seemingly didn’t move, still sitting on a windowsill halfway turned toward the window, but a very watchful eye could notice a small change in his demeanour.

Fenris slowly moved toward him. His feral animal-like moves shifted Zevran’s attention from seeking danger to attraction. He was unable to resist this tall, handsome elf with huge green eyes, who glided through the air with grace when walking. He hadn’t felt like that about anyone in many years.

Fenris was almost at his side, still looking at him from under his eyebrows with this intense look; his bangs falling forward, as his inclined head observed Zevran’s face. He grabbed the Antivan’s head, and placed a long kiss on his lips.

For a second Zevran expected that to be a ruse. But the kiss felt completely sincere, and both Fen’s hands were still holding him, sank in his hair, so not reaching for a weapon to sink it in his heart. Or not the hand reaching to sink in his heart, as the case with Fenris would be. He gave in. His arms wrapped around the other elf, and they kissed for a long while.

As an afterthought, he gently slid his hands off Fenris’s chest, which gave the other elf a pause. “Something wrong?” he asked quietly.

“I… I don’t want to cause you pain,” Zevran answered, making a motion with his finger above white markings on Fen’s arm.

“Be gentle,” was the reply, and they again entangled in a passionate kiss.

As Zevran soon discovered, Fenris was not a particular fan of gentle himself. His passions expressed in pressing his lover to the wall, pushing him onto the bed, or pulling to himself. The former Crow liked it; it wasn’t brutal or painful but impatient and burning hot with desire. Still, while he happily submitted himself to it, he replied with gentleness aware too much pressure could cause the white markings to flare and hurt. Also, he considered lovemaking to be a gentle matter.

Hightown outside was quiet in the deep night when they finally slowed down, and cuddled.

“Zevran.”

“Mmmm?”

“Can I go with you?”

The Antivan leant on his elbows. “I’m on the run, you know that.”

Fenris sat up. “I’d been on the run for years. I’m a professional.”

Zevran chuckled. “I don’t even know where I’m going.”

“ ‘Not here’ is sufficient. ‘Not Tevinter’ would also be preferable,” he added after a moment.

“We’ll think of something. Or somewhere, as it were.” A few moments passed, then Zevran asked, “Are you sure of this?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s not like you can’t change your mind later, and return.”

The only answer he got was Fenris leaning over him and starting to kiss him. “Sounds like you’re heaving second thoughts,” he murmured between smooches.

“No, but you may not be thinking straight. Your wound’s still fresh.”

“You’re the ointment I need.”

“Let’s do some healing,” he said, as he pushed the Tevinter on his back. He then sat on his hips and very gently caressed his chest for a moment. “I know you hate them, I know they hurt, I know they have a history of pain, but they… make you so beautiful.” He whispered the last few words. “I’ve never seen a man as beautiful as you.”

Fenris chuckled with embarrassment. “Flatterer.” He loved how Zevran’s hair flew in waves around his face as he was looking down at him.

“In this case, it’s true,” Zevran replied, and started kissing all around the white marks.

Fenris moaned quietly, as the Antivan slid lower with his attention. He’d had some doubts but now they all dissolved in pleasure that experienced Zevran had to offer. He closed his eyes, and surrendered. His hand gently caressed the other elf’s shoulder, then his fingers started playing with Zev’s silky hair. Something flashed in his memory, as his breath got faster, but he ignored it. He wouldn’t allow that to ruin moments like this again, and learnt – somewhat – to deal with it. Also, these happened rarely now, which gave him some respite.

His body arched in ecstasy, as his fingers closed into a fist. He belatedly realised he was pulling Zevran’s hair, so he opened his palm and looked at his lover. The other elf didn’t seem to even pay attention to it, and he crawled up and nestled his face in Fenris’s neck. “I didn’t mean to pull your hair,” the Tevinter whispered.

“Pull whatever you want,” was the reply, as Zevran wrapped himself around Fenris’s body.

It felt comfortable. Sleepy. Some sort of a night critter’s calling and their breaths were the only sounds Fen could hear. The Antivan’s breathing soon levelled, and he slightly slid off Fenris’s shoulder to snuggle in the crook between his body and arm. The other elf held him close, listening to the calm raising and falling of his chest, until he finally also fell asleep.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Eeyo, if you could go and find some dry wood. We need to stop. Fire would keep us warm. Just don’t go too far.” Nadami threw requests at the young elf, and he skittered away into the forest.

“What? Why?” Rakeen asked surprised through pain. He’d slid to the ground, and looked very pale.

“Your wound. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” She went to him to take a look.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“Rakeen, lie to him, if you must, but not to me.”

“It’s dangerous in the forest. Why did you send him there alone?”

“He should not see you dying.” The elf had no answer to that, which only confirmed her suspicions: it was a lot worse than he claimed. “Show me,” she demanded.

He unwrapped his clothes, and exposed infected flesh. His whole side was all kinds of unhealthy colours. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks like you’re in a lot of pain,” she mumbled. At this point she was even afraid to touch it. She had no idea how to help him.

“Don’t tell Eeyo.”

She shook her head. “You can’t hide it forever.”

“Take him to his people,” he begged. “Promise me. Give me your word that you’ll take him safely to his mother’s clan.”

She wanted to say the usual ‘you will do it yourself’, but they both knew. His condition had deteriorated significantly within the last couple of days, so there was no chance he’d manage to walk for another two weeks. He didn’t need empty assurances. He needed certainty.

“I promise,” she said solemnly. He nodded and closed his eyes with relief. “It doesn’t mean you can give up now,” she added, seeing his reaction.

“You should leave me. You’ll be faster without me.”

She vigorously shook her head. “No. He’d never forgive himself, even if it’s the right thing to do. This is not about efficiency, this is about son’s love.”

“But you are right, he should not watch me die.”

“I’ll send him away again. He needs every moment with you he can still have.”

“You must love your father very much.”

The statement gave her a pause. “Maybe, a long time ago, when he was still a good father.”

Eeyo returned with some wood, so they found a safe spot for a temporary camp. Nadami realised that they would need to stop more often from now on, and their travel would take longer in the result.

 

* * *

 

They were out the door, when Fenris suddenly stopped.

“Second thoughts?” Zevran asked. “Missed goodbyes?”

Fenris snorted. “Ironically, the only person I’d like to say goodbye to is the man who took Hawke away from me. He was always nice to me. Wait here,” he told the other elf. He’d already sent a message to Aveline to let her know the mansion could be taken over by the town. He’d also thanked her for all her help in the letter. She always complained that she bent the law for him, yet she kept doing that. He wanted her to know it was not unappreciated.

He turned around and returned to the house. Zevran waited, and the time seemed to stretch. He followed Fenris inside to find him in the main room, fighting the red band tied around his right armguard. He’d taken off his other glove and tried to untie it with naked fingers, but didn’t have much luck with only one hand. The Antivan helped him, and easily removed the item. Fenris took it, and placed next to the small crest that was on the table by the fallen painting. Just then Zevran realised that it was the same the Tevinter elf used to have on his belt.

“You look strange without it,” he commented. He leaned down to reach into a hidden compartment of his boot, and fetched a small dagger he kept there for emergencies. Then he attached it to where the crest used to be. Fenris let him do it without a word. “Much better, no?”

“Now I’m ready to go.” Fenris headed for the door confidently, and before following him Zevran watched his feral moves for a moment.

“So where do we go?” the tall elf asked.

“I think Ferelden is nice this time of year.”

“Why there?”

“It’s not Antiva, where I can’t set foot. It’s not Tevinter, where you can’t set foot. And… there is someone over there I’d like to find. I should have done that a while ago.”

“Who?”

“A dear friend. I’m not even sure she’s still alive. You’ll like her.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ve never been there.”

“It’s cold. Brown. And slightly destroyed by the Blight, but I suppose they rebuilt it a lot since. The food is terrible,” he laughed.

They set off, headed for the Docks to board a ship and cross the sea south.

On the plank, Fenris suddenly stopped. Zevran realised the Tevinter wasn’t walking next to him, so also stopped, turned around, and went back. “Second thoughts?”

“Mm?” Fenris looked distracted. “No, it’s not that.” He silenced. Zevran waited. He was confused, but didn’t want to press. “I feel like I’m running away again.”

“I’m on the run, remember? Nothing bad is going to happen to you if you stay.”

“Still, it feels like I’m running from something.”

“Or someone,” Zev said quietly.

Fenris’s head jerked, as he looked at the other elf. Was that true? He just realised he hadn’t thought of Hawke at all for the past few days. What had happened between them still stung deeply, but he didn’t feel as hopeless as before. “No,” he said eventually. “It’s not about her. I’m getting on that ship to be with you, not to not be with her.” Zevran’s eyes smiled. “But… I spent a decade in this town. It’s a long time. It just feels like a… chapter closing.”

“Let’s mourn it with a minute of respectful silence, yes?”

Fenris rolled his eyes. Never serious, always joking. “Don’t do it, or I’ll push you into the sea.” He resumed his walk, and they boarded the ship.

 

* * *

 

“Dad?” Eeyo called his father. He stood outside the tent with a bowl of warm overcooked root soup. There was no answer from the tent. The boy looked at Nadami. “He was always a little angry when I overslept. He’d wake me up, and leave, and I’d fall asleep. And be late for schooling.”

She smiled. Her own father could wake her up before the dawn, expecting her to be downstairs for training. She’d roll on the other side and go on sleeping, while he waited for her. He had always been frustrated by that. He had firmly believed it could cost her life.

Eeyo gently put the bowl on the ground, and crawled into the tent to do some more serious waking up. “Nadami!” the air was torn by his shriek. “Nadamiiiii!”

She knew. Why hadn’t she tried to wake him up herself?

The young elf scrambled out of the small tent in panic, and ran to her. She held him to her chest, listening to his sobbing, and gently caressing his hair. She had no idea how to comfort him; she didn’t even know if it was possible to make anything less painful after such a loss. There had been no one to help her with grief after her mother had been killed. So she stood there, with her arm around him, letting him cry his eyes out.

Eventually she managed to convince him to take a nap. Tired of crying, he fell asleep in his tent, while she took care of the body and cleaned up the rest of the camp. When a few hours later Eeyo emerged from his tent, he seemed a lot calmer. He helped her with everything that was left to do, barely speaking. Sniffing she could hear was a clear indication that he was still crying, but she made no comment. If he had to, he had to.

It was late evening when they moved on. She wondered if it was a good idea to travel at night, but staying in the camp place was out of the question.

“Did I ever tell you about the Antivan Crows?” she asked Eeyo, trying to draw his attention to something else than his sad thoughts.

“No, what is that?”

“It’s a guild of assassins. A society within a society. My father was one of them.” Belatedly she thought maybe talking of fathers was not a good move.

“So you’re Antivan?” It seemed to interest Eeyo.

“Half of me, anyway.”

“Can you speak Antivan?” he asked.

“Si, hablo un antivano fluido.”

“Wow!”

It was good to see his eyes dry up a bit.

“There was that one Crow I once met. He was an elf, like you. Behaved like he owned half of Thedas. He’s name was Zevran. Sure of himself, and cocky. Laughed at everything.”

“Did you like him?”

“I did.”

“But did you liiiike him?”

“I diiiiid,” she smiled.

“From one to ten, how handsome was he?”

“Twelve.” Eeyo laughed at her answer. “He had a job to do, and I helped him. Then he stayed with me for a few more days.”

“Ohhh, I know what that means!” The elf wriggled his eyebrows.

She ruffled his hair. “You’re too young to know what that means. Anyway, I think it was his first job, or maybe one of the first jobs. He was a sneaky one. Very proud of being a Crow. They are a big thing in Antiva. Less known over here.” She continued, repeating what she’d learnt from her father and Zevran over the years. Eeyo listened to her intently, sometimes asking a question or two. As she spoke, she realised there were surprising things both Crows of her life shared: they both had fled the guild, and they both remained proud former Crows, carrying in their hearts some of that pride in spite of being hunted. It’s like a part of them still felt the value of the prestige, even if another part rejected some of the rules.

“So you are a Crow too?” Eeyo asked her.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m just a daughter of one and a friend to another.”

“But you speak of the Crows almost like you’re one, too. You’re proud of being a Crow’s daughter. You’re proud to have one as your friend.”

“I...” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was shocking that the boy just mirrored her thoughts right back at her.

“You’re not just telling me a story about your dad. Or your best friend. You’re telling me a story of Crows your knew personally. Like knowing a Crow is a big thing.”

His words gave her a pause. She’d never thought about it that way, but he was right: the Crows were a constant in her life, even if she was never one, and never would become one.

“I think it’s because it was an important part of their lives, and it can’t be separated from them, that’s all.”

“It also can’t be separated from you, either,” he insisted.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t know what to answer. He wasn’t right but he also wasn’t wrong.

“Tell me more about level twelve handsome Zevran,” Eeyo prodded.

“Well...” She searched her memory to bring up something interesting Zev had shared with her. “There was one time he had to take down a mage.”

“A mage!”

She went on with her stories as they walked through the dark forest on a barely lit by moonlight path.


	11. Chapter 11

They arrived in Denerim, and Fenris felt like it was exactly the same as any other city, and at the same time completely different. They rented a room in a place that didn’t seem the filthiest, but also didn’t consume all the coin they had, and headed for the Alienage, where Zevran claimed was a contact he wanted to talk to.

While they walked, they clearly drew attention of many elves. Some stepped out of their way, and Fenris wondered if they were intimidated by his looks. Soon he discovered that it was Zevran they reacted to; some even bowed to him with respect. The last time Fenris had seen behaviour like this was when Keeper Marethari had visited Kirkwall Alienage.

They passed by a massive _vhenadahl_ and headed toward a shop.

“Zevran!” The man behind the counter welcomed them cheerfully. “I didn’t expect to see you!”

“Always expect the unexpected, Alarith” the Antivan answered.

“How can I help you?”

“I need information, and I hope you have some.”

“Naturally. Do you have time? Let’s sit down over a cup of tea.”

Zevran looked at Fenris, who only shrugged. He was not in the lead here, it was the other elf’s turf.

They went behind the counter to another room, where a young girl of maybe 8 years was busy with something. The shop owner told her to bring tea… in Tevinter, which drew Fenris’s attention. The child skittered away, while they were invited to sit down.

“So what is it that you need?” Alarith asked.

“I know Nadami Cabrero comes to you for possible jobs. Have you heard from her recently? Or when was the last time? I’m trying to find her.”

“Ah, our favourite adoptive elf,” the shopkeeper smiled.

The girl returned with a tray and mugs on it. She took them off and placed each in front of the men. When she put one before Fenris, he quietly – not to interrupt the conversation of the others – thanked her in Tevinter. The child looked at him with owe and smiled.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

He smiled back at her. She was one little cute gem.

“Go back to the kitchen, dear,” her father said. Then he looked at Fenris. “A runaway?”

“Excuse me?”

“Not many Tevinter elves are not slaves. I sure wasn’t.”

“A runaway,” the tall elf confirmed. He noticed that while the girl went to the kitchen, she stopped by the threshold, and observed him, half hiding behind the wall. He winked at her.

Alarith was fully aware his daughter disobeyed him. He shot a glance at her, then looked at Fenris. “I lost my family escaping. But I found a new one here. She was born here, and doesn’t know slavery.”

“Good,” Fenris said. “It should stay that way.”

Returning to the main subject, the shopkeeper turned back to Zevran. “I saw her about four weeks ago. There was a job in Redcliff, and she set off. Looked like she was interested in it.”

Zevran looked at Fenris. “Looks like we’re going to visit Redcliff.”

“There’s more, though,” Alarith said.

“Oh? I’m all ears.”

“She would have reached the town by now, and taken the job. I know she hasn’t; it’s still available. There was some kind of unrest among their elves. Gossips says Tevinter slavers attempted to kidnap people. I am not sure how true that information is, but something happened over there. The king sent help, and– That’s immaterial.” He realised he was babbling. “She hasn’t arrived in Redcliff by the usual time. Not sure she changed her mind, or something happened, or she was delayed. All I know is that the job was still available after she should have arrived in the town.”

“It’s still the best trace we have,” Zevran said, his mood slightly lower. But he pulled himself together very quickly. “Thank you for your time,” he added, raising. “We won’t take any more of it.”

They were on their way to the door, when the girl stepped in front of Fenris. She stretched her arms toward him, so he knelt on one knee before her. She threw her arms around his shoulders, and whispered a question to his ear.

“I’m sorry,” Alarith moved toward them, clearly intending to pull the child away. Fenris raised his hand to stop him. Then he whispered his name into her ear, answering her question. She gave him a hug, then let him go. “I’m really sorry for the bother,” the shopkeeper repeated. “I’m the only person who speaks to her in Tevinter. She feels special that she can speak it, like a secret language. Your presence–”

“It’s all right,” the other elf interrupted him. “I don’t mind. She’s adorable.”

The guests headed for the exit. The door was almost closed behind them, but they could still hear the girl announcing to her father, “I’ll marry him when I grow up.”

“Well, with your future settled,” Zevran chucked, “we know where to go next, yes?”

“He called Nadami an ‘adoptive elf’. What does that mean?”

“I didn’t tell you? She’s human. But she has a thing for elves.”

That was news to the Tevinter. For some reason, he always imagined her as an elf. “What do you mean, ‘a thing’.”

“You know how humans think we’re all beautiful? She takes it to the next level.” Zevran chuckled. “I bet if she could, she’d turn herself into an elf. I doubt she slept with a human even once.” His voice turned into slightly dreamy. “She likes to go for the ears, you know.”

“I don’t think I want to know what that means.”

Zevran laughed.

 

* * *

 

Nadami was growing worried. Eeyo had left quite a while ago for a bath in the nearby river, but was not back yet. The food was getting cold, but if she put it back on fire she’d burn it even more. She decided to check up on him.

She was just about to call his name as a warning of her approach, so that he could get decent, when she heard something. At first she thought it was a whimper, but the sound didn’t appear to be distressed or interrupted. She got closer to its source to finally recognise it as singing. She could not make up the words, but it most definitely was singing.

She found Eeyo sitting by the river, his hair still wet from the bath he had taken, his arms wrapped around his drawn to his chest knees. He sang a sad song while watching the water splash against rocks on the other bank. He had to sense her presence, because he looked back at her. His eyes were full of tears. She sat next to him, and hugged him. He resumed his sad song. She still couldn’t understand anything, and wondered if it was in e _lvhen_. He started to shiver; she wasn’t sure it was grief or cold, but began gently rubbing his arms. He turned to her, hid between her arms, and started sobbing. She wished she had the ability of lessening his pain.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW elements in this chapter.

They stopped for the night, and as Zevran was building fire, Fenris plucked soil and leaves from between his toes.

“I hate dirt,” he mumbled. “So what is the plan exactly?” he asked the other elf.

“We follow her steps. Ask around in every settlement if they saw a pretty red-haired human. See where the information takes us.”

“That’s your whole plan?”

“Perfect, no?”

Fenris rolled his eyes. Then asked, “Why exactly are we looking for her?”

The Antivan didn’t answer at once. He made the fire, then sat down. He looked at it, and looked like preparing the reply, but still not saying anything after a very long while.

“Well?” Fen prompted. Zevran’s head jerked, as if he was taken out of some deep place in his thoughts. “There has to be a reason for all this trouble.”

“I need to tell her something.”

The Tevinter waited for more but no more came. “That’s it? A message?”

Zevran shook his head. “It’s not exactly a message. It’s...” He frowned. “She...” He raked the wisps of his hair behind his ear. He opened his mouth again, but didn’t say anything.

Fenris started having suspicions. “Who is she to you exactly?” he asked.

This time the answer came immediately, almost slipped out before Zevran could stop it and consider consequences. “Everything.”

The tall elf’s heart skipped a bit. What did that mean? “Everything?” he repeated. His voice turned harsher. “Everything, as in you love her?” Zevran raised his head and looked at his lover. “We’re on the way to your woman, so that you can be with her? So what am I?!” Fenris growled, standing up. “A third wheel?” For all he cared, Zevran could just go glowy, and rip his heart out of his chest. All the comfort he felt, all the safety, all the trust – again it was all a lie. Worse than that, he was used. This time he wasn’t just discarded, but used as an entertainment before the real thing began. He felt betrayed on so many levels.

“No! No, no, no, no,” Zevran shook his head. “No!” He also stood up and tried to reach out to Fenris, but the other elf would have none of it. He quickly removed himself from the Antivan’s grasp.

“Then explain it to me? How am I not temporary company for the trip to your new woman. What will you do after you find her. ‘Thank you, little wolf, your service has come to an end. I have someone else to sleep with now. You can go.’ Is that what I should prepare myself for?!”

Zevran only kept shaking his head with a painful expression, drowned by bitterness flowing from the other elf’s words. He sat down by the fire. Fenris, reluctantly, sat on the opposite side, and watched him. He wanted to hear it. He wanted to know. He wanted an explanation what in the name of Maker that idiot was thinking. He deserved to know!

“I… I was thinking about Nadami a lot in the last year,” the Antivan started, looking at the fire. “I was thinking about finding her, and… giving her what she always wanted. What she never asked for, and I failed to recognise she needed it.” He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “My blindness caused misunderstanding that I want to… I _need_ to clarify. Meeting you,” he looked up at Fenris over the fire, “made me realise that the friendship I have with her is rare and precious. You lost what you had. Everything. Everyone. I lost what I treasured most. But not everyone. I never lost her, even though sometimes I wonder how come she stayed.

“Finding her was a fleeting thought. Something I could some day get to do. But… you changed that. You… We spent two days and one night together, and you were ready to pack your things and go with me. You asked to go with me.” He smiled. “This made me happy. It still does.” Fenris was still glaring at him from under his eyebrows, resentful.

Zevran looked at the fire again. His eyes were distant, as he brought memories back. “When we first met, she helped me. Today I think I was tasked with this assignment by my master to fail. For years her father couldn’t be found, so why would a rookie like me be more successful? But I was, thanks to her help.

“Then I stumbled upon her again, and she helped without any questions. She didn’t ask for anything in return. Not even a favour debt.

“And then she came to me. She needed something to complete her task. It wasn’t even difficult what she asked for. A bit inconvenient, but not difficult. And I tried to wriggle out of it, to find an excuse not to do as she asked. Because I _couldn’t be bothered_ with the trouble.” His voice was sour now. “When she realised that, she asked surprised ‘You really won’t help me?’ and it felt like a punch. A punch I needed. I really needed. For all she’d done for me, I couldn’t do a little thing for her. I immediately realised my selfishness, and helped her.” He closed his eyes. “She left payment for us. She gave us a bonus for doing her a favour. She felt my help was for sale.” He opened his eyes and looked at Fenris. “While hers was always for free and with a bonus smile.”

He silenced for a moment. Fenris’s expression softened.

“The next time we met she needed help from me again,” Zevran continued. “But she didn’t ask for it. She tried to sneak and steal what she needed. She didn’t think she could count on me.” He bit his lip, and stared at the fire for a long moment. Then looked at the Tevinter. “I must find her to let her know she was wrong. I must find her to make sure she understands she can come to me with everything. Any time. That our friendship is mutual.” His gaze intensified, as he watched Fenris. “It is so important to me that I know I will break her heart again by bringing my lover with me, but I need her to know how important she is to me, and that she can rely on me.” He looked at the fire again. “If not this search for her, I wouldn’t come to Ferelden. I have no reason to. And she has no reason to go to Antiva. Most likely we’d never see each other again. She’d never come to me, if she needed help. I want her to know she can. I want her to know I’d drop everything to do anything she’d request. I want her to know she’s not alone.”

Fenris stood up, and Zevran closed his eyes. He had no idea how to explain it better. He never meant to hurt Fenris; he knew it was complicated, and he didn’t fully understand his own feelings. He was never good at feelings. He could barely recognise his own, let alone other people’s. But the thought of Fenris leaving now was unbearable.

He sensed the Tevinter sitting down next to him and wrapping his arm around Zev’s shoulder. “I think I understand,” he said softly.

The Antivan looked at him. “You are the reason why we’re doing it. You were the push I needed to make the decision. She has to know she’s not alone before it’s too late.” He placed a long kiss on Fenris’s lips. “But if you really feel I’m pushing you away, if this is standing between us, we don’t have to do it. We can go back to Antiva, or somewhere.”

“What about her?”

“She doesn’t know I’m looking for her. She won’t be disappointed I don’t come. Ignorance is bliss, no?” His voice turned into a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”

The Tevinter shook his head. “No, we do this. You’re a good friend.” Then he smirked. “And a terrible lover.”

“You wound me!” Zevran chuckled. “I prove you’re wrong, yes?” They kissed again, and the Antivan pulled the other elf down to the ground, undoing his clothes. Fenris was already half stripped, when he sat up. Zevran tried to sit up too, but the Tevinter pushed him back on his back. Then he removed the Antivan’s armour, enjoying each exposed area of his skin, showering it with kisses, gentle bites, and caressing. As he undid Zevran’s kilt, he saw on his hip something that hadn’t been there before: a wolf’s head with a sword in the background. The sword was very much like Fenris’s. He looked up at the lover’s face.

“Found it, mmm?”

At first he wanted to touch it, but the redness showed that the skin was still healing, so instead he gently blew at it, hoping a cool flow of air would bring some relief to the irritated, red wound. Then he removed the boots, rolled him on his belly, and started kissing the wavy tattooed lines on his back. He gently caressed the crow inked on Zev’s right shoulder blade with one hand, while the other reached for what the other elf called ‘love oil’. He greased his fingers, then gently inserted one into Zevran’s behind. He couldn’t see the Antivan’s face, as his loose hair covered it all, but he heard a dreamy moan. He pushed in another finger, and knelt between the other elf’s legs. Zevran got on all fours, exposing invitingly to Fenris. “Stop teasing me!” Provoked, Fen inserted another finger to fiddle with Zev’s arousal and patience, which was met with a fake growl of anger and an amused snort. Then finally pulled his fingers out and slid his cock in. The blond head dropped with a satisfied groan, hair spilling and covering his face. The groans got louder as Fenris pushed harder. He reached down and grabbed Zevran’s member. A whimper answered, and a smile appeared on Fen’s face. Zev’d done it many times, but it was Fenris’s first, and the surprise had to be pleasant both figuratively and literally. He hoped he was a good student. He paced both forms of stimulation evenly, until he could not fully control his grip, as waves of climax came over him. He squeezed Zevran’s buttocks, moaning loudly, and catching his breath. He than sat on his heels, as the other elf rolled on his back and looked at him. Still taking deep, heavy breaths in, Fenris leant to his still stiff cock and started licking it. Zevran’s hand sank in the Tevinter’s white hair. He swallowed everything, then slowly climbed up the Crow’s body, licking and kissing his tattoos on the way. They locked in a deep, sensual kiss with their limbs wrapped around each other.

This was only the beginning of the night.

 

* * *

 

Eeyo didn’t want to separate, and Nadami didn’t want to press the issue. She knew a human woman appearing with an elven child could cause trouble, but she could deal with trouble. She couldn’t deal with his tears. He’d just lost his father, and being left alone with the possibility of her not returning – as remote and unlikely it was – had to be terrifying.

They approached the village taking the main road. She hoped to buy some supplies: food mostly but also hoped for some warmer clothes for Eeyo, especially boots. That was something she couldn’t simply hunt.

They reached a place that looked like the main market for the village – wide open space where all roads met – and looked around. She expected it to be the best place to find what she needed. It was late afternoon, so it was fairly full of people walking about. Some glanced at them but didn’t seem to pay much attention. At least, not openly.

She found what looked like a tanner’s stall.

“Do you have a pair that would fit his feet?” she asked seated on a stood by the stall woman who was busy sowing something small.

The woman looked up at her, then at Eeyo’s feet. Nadami was ready for a comment ‘since when elves wear shoes’, but no such thing came. “Let me check,” she answered. She stood up and went to a house behind the stall. A smell of half prepared leather escaped when the door was opened. She returned a short while later. “Try these.” She handed the elf two pairs.

He took his boots off, and tried the first pair. Then tried the other one and smiled. “I like these. Soft inside.”

“How much?” Nadami asked. They turned out to be more pricey than expected but she didn’t intend to save on his comfort. She plucked the coins out of her pocket and paid. “Do you know where we could get some food supplies?” she asked the woman.

“There is that one farm down the road. They have a little bit of everything. They provide for our local businesses, but may also sell to strangers.” She gave them a more attentive look. “Long journey ahead?” she asked. Nadami only nodded. “Keep yourselves safe,” she said. “Your son looks like an easy target for bad people.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nadami replied.

They headed off toward the farm. “She thought you were my mum,” Eeyo whispered.

“Does it bother you?”

“What? No!” The big grin on his face was proof he rather enjoyed the thought. She ruffled his hair. If she had a son after her first encounter with Zevran, would he be like Eeyo?

“Tell me more about the Antivan Crows and Zevran,” he asked, startling her slightly by the coincidence of their thoughts converging on the same person.

“There was that one time I angered his friend, and that friend would kill me, if Zevran didn’t save my life the last moment.”

“Really?”

She went on how she had asked Zevran to help her, and how he had, and how she had successfully completed her job. The hiccup of Zev’s resistance didn’t make it to the story, because it completely slipped her memory.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning Nadami and Eeyo returned to the village. They’d spent the night camping nearby; the villagers appeared friendly enough but she didn’t have enough coin to pay both for rooms and the kid’s new clothing. Also, she was aware that friendly could go just that far. Better safe than sorry.

The village was quieter than the previous afternoon. People were probably busy with their work. She headed for a house where she’d been told she could get some garments for her young charge.

Suddenly a man ran to them. “Get out of the sight. Now!” he grabbed her arm and started pulling her. “Please!” He sounded urgent, but not threatening, so Nadami decided to trust her instinct and follow him.

He took them away from the marketplace, and led behind a small house. She was prepared for the worst, just in case, but he stopped and took a few breaths. She looked around. They were in a garden, with two young children playing at the far end by the fence. She relaxed a bit; the man wouldn’t lead them to a place like this with presence like that, if his intentions were hostile and a threat to them.

“What’s going on?” Nadami asked. Eeyo stood close to her, seeking safety in her proximity.

Finally the man’s racing breathing calmed a little. “Yesterday two men stopped at the local watering hole,” he began. “They were asking about a man with and boy, about their ‘property’. At first we thought he was talking about some thief, but quickly it became obvious he was talking about elves, and they both were supposedly property, and the description of the younger one fit him.” He pointed at Eeyo. “Now, you’re not a man or an elf, but I don’t care, really. Even if it’s not about you two, it is about someone. And you could be a tempting target anyway.”

“What did you tell them?” Nadami was seriously worried. It looked like someone was looking for Eeyo and his father, but had outdated information. Slavers? Chasing them this far? How did they even find them here? Why did they bother with chasing them? Had she left marks of their presence, not aware they were followed. Right now those questions were immaterial, though. The most important thing was to keep Eeyo safe.

“We lied. We’re no giving no elves to slavery!” His outrage at the implication she hadn’t even made seemed genuine. “But you can’t stay here any longer. If you tell me where you’re headed, we’ll point them in the opposite direction, if we have to make up another lie.” That was a generous offer. It could also be a trap. He noticed his hesitation. “You don’t trust me. That’s all right. Just leave the village right now. Go through the fields, not the road. Avoid the road for a while.”

She nodded, and gratefully squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Send them north.” Sometimes, one just needed to trust strangers.

He smiled. “Just go! And good luck!”

Nadami and Eeyo set off. She couldn’t stop wondering why the slavers put so much effort in going after them.

 

* * *

 

Zevran and Fenris drew a lot of attention from the villagers.

“You’d think they’ve never seen elves in their whole lives,” the Tevinter mumbled.

“And now they are stunned how pretty we are. Just look at our ears! At our tattoos. At our hair! We’re not just elves, we’re perfect elves, mmm?”

Fenris chuckled, rolling his eyes. Zevran could be insufferable and adorable at the same time. “We stop here?” he asked.

“We need some food supplies. We can also check out the local gossip establishment.” He headed for what looked like a tavern.

As soon as they entered, the whole floor went silent.

“This can’t be good,” Fenris said quietly.

“I’m starting to think you were right about the elf thing.”

“Not funny, Zevran.”

“You wound me!”

They headed for the counter, and the man behind put two mugs of water in front of them. “I’m starting to think someone put a sign ‘All elves go that way” pointing to our little village,” he said. The tavern slowly filled with conversation and the usual noises. They were not in the centre of attention any more; at least, not obviously. “One of you is the father?” he asked.

Both elves looked at each other, then Zevran looked at the man. “Not that I know of.”

Fenris thought it was quite a claim, considering Zevran’s rich past. He did his best to hide his amused smile.

“Never mind. We had people looking for elven father and son, and a human woman with an elven boy was here. I thought maybe you split a while ago, and one of you could be the father.”

The bartender’s words drew their attention. “A woman and an elven boy? A human woman, you mean?” Zevran prodded.

The man’s eyes squinted suspiciously. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Red hair, funny and narrow eyes. Thin but tall. Probably armed with daggers. If her hair is still long, it’s plaited and wrapped into a bun.”

“Yes, yes, it was her!”

“She travels with a child?” Fenris asked.

“A teenager, to be exact.” The elves exchanged looks again. This was unexpected. “We assumed it was her son.”

For a second, Zevran’s eyebrows were higher than Fenris had ever seen. Then the expression faded. “Do you know where they went?” the Antivan asked.

“Maybe.”

Fenris thought that the man seemed quite protective of a passer-by woman with a kid. “Would a big tip help your memory?” he asked.

The man gave him a look full of disgust. “No!” Then he softened. “There were two armed Tevinters looking for them here. And now you’re looking for them too.”

“Armed Tevinters? As in, slavers?” Fenris’s voice gained a growl deeper than usual.

The barkeep watched him for a moment, then sighed. “Yes, I think so. She told us to send them north, so I suppose she went the opposite direction.”

“Why did you help them?”

“Why not! We’re good people!” He clearly took that as an offence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Fenris said. “It just doesn’t happen often.”

“Look.” The man leaned toward them over the counter. “We may live in a backward village, and not have much contact with outsiders beside random infrequent travellers, but we’re not stupid.” He seemed to ponder something. “Well, the slavers were wrong, looked for people with wrong information, but you did describe her. You know her personally?”

Zevran nodded. “Yes. I’m trying to find her. She’s my friend.”

“Now it’s more urgent than before, if she’s being chased,” Fenris added.

“She’s two days ahead of you. Travels with a child. Went somewhere not north. My brother advised her not to take the main road for a while, but she probably returns to it sooner or later for speed. You could be able to catch up with her, if she stayed off the road long enough.”

 

* * *

 

There was something satisfying in the positive turn of fate, Fenris thought. He and Zevran were following a couple of men in Tevinter armours for a while now, waiting for them to split. They’d decided not to take unnecessary risks. Now that they had an eye on them, Nadami and the kid’s safety wasn’t an urgent matter. Soon it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

Fenris had thought he’d had to fight Zevran about that: to get the slavers first. He had been ready to split to kill them himself, while the Antivan would follow his friend, but to his relief they had agreed on the course of action. The Tevinters had to die.

The soldiers walked slowly, chatting. Fenris felt sick thinking that they sounded cheerful. How could people like that even be cheerful. He couldn’t hear what they talked about, because they were too far away, but the gestures, shaking of shoulders indicating laughter, and general vibe coming from them was almost offensive to him. How dared they have a normal, regular conversation with giggles? They were chasing a child to take him to his greatest nightmare, and looked like joking about it.

They stopped, so the elves – hidden in the forest, safely beyond their field of vision – stopped too.

The taller soldier put his backpack at the feet of the shorter one, then went off the path and disappeared in the greens of nature.

“I’ll take the smaller one,” Zevran said.

“I’ll keep an eye on the returning one. He’s sure to hear the commotion. I’ll intercept him before he attacks you.”

The Antivan nodded, and set off, hiding in shades of the trees.


	14. Chapter 14

Nadami reached the path just in time to see the person she’d expected last to see in this neighbourhood just about to murder her charge. He was pinning Eeyo to the ground, sitting on his chest, with his daggers high up in the air above his head as he was just about to bring them down.

“Zevran, no!” she shouted, pulling her helmet off and running to him.

She barely managed to register that the elf – thanks to his reflexes – sank his daggers in the ground on both sides of the boy instead of his chest, when she was brutally tackled, grabbed by the throat and pressed flat on the nearest tree. Pushing her neck to the trunk with his forearm, her attacker lowered his other hand outside her field of vision, and something strange happened to him: he started to glow with a blueish light.

“Fenris, don’t!” She heard Zevran’s voice.

“Why shouldn’t I?” the glowy elf roared back, not taking his huge eyes off her face.

There was something incredible about him. He glared at her from under this black eyebrows with slightly inclined head and a look that suggested he was looking at a pest. His hair was completely white, and he had an unusual white tattoo on his chin that seemed to glow in the sunlight. His face was so close she could feel his breath, and his hatred so palpable it was choking her in addition to his arm in a metal glove with fingers as spikey and sharp as small round daggers.

“She’s not what she seems,” Zevran said, putting his hand on the other elf’s shoulder.

“She’s wearing a slaver’s armour.” He sounded more like growling than speaking. His eyebrows drew closer together in even deeper frown.

She looked at Zev. “If your friend with lovely green eyes takes…” He choked her harder. “… his arm off my throat,” it was more difficult to speak now, “I will explain.” She felt a strange tingling on her skin where her stomach was.

“Fenris!” Zevran’s voice sounded urgent, as he looked down at her body. “Long red hair, remember?”

Reluctantly, the strange elf let her go, and stopped glowing. She immediately ran to Eeyo. “Are you all right?” she asked, taking off his helmet, and checking his armour for holes or blood stains.

He shook his head to loosen his hair, then looked at Zevran with awe. “Is that–” He didn’t finish.

“Yes. You almost got killed by your hero.”

Zevran’s expression at hearing that was precious, and she almost burst into laughter. He went to the kid, stretched his hand toward him, and helped him up. Then he looked at his companion. “Fenris, this is Nadami. Nadami, Fenris.”

She nodded politely toward Fenris, now able to see how tall and lanky he was in his full glory, but he only gave her a bitter, grumpy frown. “What are you doing with the boy?” he demanded.

“I’m trying to get him to his mother’s clan,” she answered. Eeyo came closer to her, and she protectively wrapped her arms around him. “You’re scaring him.”

Fenris’s eyes softened, as he looked at the youngster. “Forgive me, that is not my intention,” he said to him a lot friendlier. His whole demeanour gradually relaxed.

“We should be moving.” Zevran picked up his daggers that were still lodged in the ground. “There are two Tevinter men after you. The real ones.” He glanced at her. “I assume you’re the human woman with an elf boy the villagers warned, yes?”

“Yes. But the Tevinters are not a threat any more. Where do you think we got these armours from?”

“You dressed as them?” the tall glowy elf asked. He wasn’t glowy any more, but he still had the white markings and not just on his chin. And he still looked like he could kill her with just a thought. She’d never seen white tattoos. She thought the Dalish made theirs with ink mixed with blood. How they could make the ink white, she had no clue.

“Seemed like a good way to hide, especially with the helmets. Didn’t work as I hoped.” She rubbed her throat.

“I’d say,” Fenris grunted.

Zevran chuckled. Did she miss a joke? As warmth filled her heart, she realised she definitely missed his chuckle.

“Is that clan far?” her friend asked.

“Based on my information, four days away.” The elves exchanged a look, then Zevran’s eyes returned to her face. “Need bodyguards?”

“Depends. Will he glow at me again?”

“Not unless you misbehave,” Fenris said, and Zevran cackled again.

“I don’t think I get your sense of humour,” she muttered.

“Assume everything is a joke, unless he’s glowy,” Zevran replied, and it was Eeyo’s turn to laugh.

They picked up the discarded helmets, and moved on. Eeyo glued himself to Zevran, showering him with all sorts of questions. They walked ahead, while Nadami and the glowy elf followed them. She kept stealing looks at her companion, and clearly she wasn’t good at this ‘stealing’, since he sighed, “Go ahead, ask your questions.”

“Questions?”

He gave her ‘don’t play games with me, I have no patience for it’ look, so she dropped the pretence.

“You are… unusual,” she commented. “And I bet I’m not the first one who tells you that.”

“No, you are not.”

“And I’m not the first who’d ask the same questions.”

“No.”

“Then I won’t ask. If you want to chat, I’m right by your side. If not, we walk in silence.”

And so they walked in silence, which after a few minutes started to amuse her.

He was the opposite of Zevran: very tall, very thin, very quiet, very broody, and with very white tattoos. He also moved like a feral creature: incredibly elegant but almost like he was ready to start running any moment. A halla. A prey. At the same time, Zev walked in front of them, chatting with Eeyo: short even for an elf, unusually muscular for an elf, cheerful, with black tattoos, and a stroll that looked like he owned whole Thedas. A confident hunter.

Even their ears weren’t the same, and she thought she’d love to touch Fenris’s: long, running backwards, beautifully shaped. She noticed Zevran glanced back at her. His face was painted with ‘I saw what you did there’ smirk, and in the last moment she bit her tongue before making a mean comment about keeping his head in his dead Warden. She felt her cheeks flare hot. Zevran just turned away and continued walking, while Eeyo was oblivious, but on Fenris’s lips played the tiniest smile she’d ever seen. He’d noticed too. Damn, he was cute. Deadly cute, but cute.

She rubbed the spot on her stomach that still felt what he’d done to her… whatever that was.

He noticed her gesture. “I’m sorry, did I get inside? I didn’t think I did,” he said.

“Inside?” She wasn’t sure she understood his question. “I feel like, I don’t know, pinched or something.”

“May I see?” he asked.

“Ummm. All right,” she agreed reluctantly.

He stopped, so she did too. He leant closer to her, and gently touched her armour. There was a small hole in there which she hadn’t noticed before. A hole! In metal plates of armour! “How… how did you do this?” she asked shocked.

“I can’t see if your flesh is injured,” he said. Then straightened up and looked at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, you thought you were protecting Eeyo, so you’re forgiven.” She put a finger through the hole, then glanced at his gloves. Those sharp coverings on his fingers that looked like drills. “You’d drill a hole in my body?”

“I usually aim for the heart.”

“And puncture it?”

“Pull it out.”

“Pu–” She shook her head with disbelief. “Ouchy-ouch?!”

She walked next to him, staring at him, while he looked forward, as if oblivious, striding ahead like an elven halla. One that could pull hearts out.

There was a brief silence in front, so Nadami asked, “So, Zev, what are you doing here?”

He turned, and started walking backwards, to face her while answering. “I’m here to make your life easier, obviously.”

“Yes, it was very easy to breath a few moments ago indeed,” she replied, rubbing her throat, and giving Fenris a glare. He gave her an apologetic look, to which she replied with a sincere smile. Then looked back at her friend. “But seriously – if you are capable of being serious for a split second – how come you’re here?”

“We flew in on a dragon!” He turned back to walk normally.

Eeyo laughed, and Nadami gave up. She looked at Fenris. “Are you more mature than this three-year-old?”

“The answer is complicated, and it should really be him to explain it,” was his reply.

“Why?”

“It’s personal. I’m just tagging along.”

She sighed. “He needs something, then,” she muttered.

The tall elf gave her a frown that she could not decipher. Was it important and her possible refusal to help would impede the matters? She couldn’t tell whether he was worried, angry, frustrated, or just constipated. One way or another, Zevran would eventually reveal his plans to her, so all she had to do was to wait. She had a task to complete anyway, and she would not set off to any other job before that was done, and Eeyo safe with his mother’s people.

She looked ahead, and as she walked her eyes constantly landed on Zevran. She listened to his conversation with Eeyo, but didn’t pay attention to its content. The kid was hungry for stories and her friend gladly provided them, but the details escaped her attention. She just listened to his voice, watched his gesturing, chuckles, and his fit body walking, and she knew one thing.

She was still madly in love with him.


	15. Chapter 15

“I don’t want to go to the Dalish,” Eeyo announced.

Everybody raised their heads from their meals. They had stopped for the night, and after setting up the camp, Nadami had cooked the evening meal. Zevran had muttered something about ‘delicious Fereldan mud cuisine’, which had made Fenris chuckle quietly with amusement, and Eeyo laugh out loud without shame.

“What?” Nadami asked flabbergasted.

“I don’t want to go there. I want to be a Crow,” he said defiantly.

“You what?” That did not clear anything up.

“I want to become a Crow!” he repeated.

Nadami looked at Zevran, sensing he had a lot to do with it, but he only gave her a surprised look and shrugged. There was, however, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.

“Why?” Fenris asked the boy.

“It will be fun! It will be great! I will be the best!”

“Eeyo...” Nadami wanted to say it was the most stupid idea ever, but couldn’t find words that weren’t rude.

“It’s my life! I decided!” the young elf shouted.

Nadami again looked at Zevran. She felt a wave of fury overcome her. What had he told the boy to cause this? Then her eyes returned to her charge. “Eeyo, I don’t think this is a good idea. In fact, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

“You’re just jealous!” he retorted. “Because you could never be one!” He got up and ran away into the forest.

“Zevran!” she looked at the Antivan, not hiding her fury any more.

“It’s not my fault!” he tried to defend himself. “I didn’t suggest it. It didn’t even occur to me to suggest it!” The smirk was still there. She couldn’t believe he actually liked the idea. Did he feel flattered? He had been a run-away Crow for most of his adult life, and now this?

“But you fed him stories of glory. Most of them half made up and exaggerated!” She tried to control her voice, but still raised it louder than was safe in the forest. “Did you also include how a candidate becomes a Crow _if_ he survives the training? How the final test is torture to check the threshold of pain? Did you mention how each is an expendable tool in the leaders’ quivers? Did you mention all the restrictions and not being a master of your own life? Did you mention execution in case of failure to save the Crows honour or that you can’t just change your mind a leave?!”

Zevran’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a frown that grew deeper and deeper as she spat her words out in a tone that clearly was an accusation. He was not defenceless, however, and the counter-attack came immediately. “You told him stories about me, no? You made me larger than life and one of the best, no? You made me look like a master assassin who could never be defeated, no? You made me look like someone so great even Grey Wardens had taken me to their team, no? You made my life sound like the greatest adventure, no? You made it look like a life of helping people instead of cold-blooded murder, no?” He wasn’t wrong, and her anger grew, but this time she was the target of it. But he wasn’t done yet. “The boy absorbed all great stories as if they were the truth, built a romantic view of a glorious life, and now wants it for himself. I only built upon what you had started. So no, I don’t think I’m innocent in this mess, but I didn’t cause it all by myself. You laid a fairly stable ground to build this upon, my dear lady. You made me his life hero.” He squinted at her and dealt the final stab. “Maybe you should choose your own heroes more carefully, mmm?”

She couldn’t say he wasn’t right. She glanced at Fenris, who kept his nose firmly in his bowl, trying his best to stay out of it. She looked back at Zevran. “We need to fix this,” she said. He was still squinting at her. “Please help me fix this,” she pleaded. “He’s more likely to listen to you than to me.”

The elf sighed and nodded, his expression softening. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Let me,” Fenris said unexpectedly. They both looked at him. “I’m an outsider. It could be easier that way.”

Nadami made the ‘be my guest’ gesture with her hands, so he put his already empty bowl away, and followed the boy. Zevran returned to his meal.

“Mud food,” he mumbled, giving Nadami a challenging look. She squinted at him. He wriggled his eyebrows at her, and disarmed her completely. With a sigh, she resumed eating, frustrated at being unable to stay angry at him for longer than three breaths.

She waited for Fenris to return, but eventually she ran out of patience. She just had to see what was going on. She followed the other elves into the forest, wondering if Zevran would try to stop her. But he only shook his head with exasperation, making his hair flow around his face in soft blond waves, and continued cleaning his daggers.

The elves had gone toward the lake, so she headed in the same direction. To think of it, a swim would be nice too. It had been a warm day, they had stayed on the dusty highway, so getting rid of all the dirt that collected in her hair and on her skin tempted her.

As she neared the lake she heard a sound she was very familiar with: Eeyo singing. She stopped. She liked listening to him. His song was interrupted, and silence followed, but then he started again repeating the same part. Another voice joined him. Shyly at first, but seemed to gain strength and confidence as they sang together. Very quietly, she went toward the singing, and finally reached the lake’s shore. They sat to her left, facing the water, singing. From this angle she could barely see Fenris’s face, but it seemed calmer than she’d seen before. The resting frown was gone, and there was something serene in his whole pose. Painless. At peace.

She sat down. She didn’t want to disturb them, but she also didn’t want to walk away. She couldn’t even tell if it was their singing that had her so captivated, or Fenris’s new face she hadn’t known he had.

She watched him amazed, and felt he was the most beautiful person she’d ever encountered, and that statement was still correct when keeping in mind that she had ‘a thing for elves’, as Zevran called it, so her bar for elves was higher than for others. He was someone who had almost choked the life out of her, someone who supposedly could kill people bare-handed – she still wasn’t sure how true or accurate that claim was – but right now all that danger locked in his graceful body was gone. He was calm, relaxed, singing with his young teacher.

After a very long while she quietly withdrew, and returned to the camp, leaving them alone.

“They’re talking?” Zevran asked her upon her return.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but changed her mind. The little elven troll could start making jokes, and the last thing she wanted was his thoughtless mocking stop Fenris from singing with Eeyo. She loved Zev, but sensitivity to subtleties of others’ feelings was not exactly his forte.

The Antivan went to sleep, but she still waited for the other two to return. When they did, Eeyo also went to his tent and rested for the night.

Fenris sat next to her. “It didn’t go as planned,” he said.

“He still wants to be a glorious Crow?”

“He’s quite determined. It looks like the idea budded a while ago, but Zevran’s presence helped it blossom.”

She rubbed her face. “Ugh.”

“I tried to prompt him to consider the downside too, but I’m not certain how successful that was. He’s a smart kid, but...” He hesitated. “Your stories – and I mean both of you – fed his imagination.”

“All I wanted to do was to keep his mind off his father’s death.”

Fenris smiled. “One of his plans is to become a great assassin, and then assassinate slavers.”

“That’s all great but it doesn’t work that way,” she sighed.

“Zevran lived through it. Maybe he should explain – really explain – why he wanted to leave. Wasn’t your father a Crow on the run?”

“I never really told him details of what happened to my father,” she admitted.

“Why not?”

“He just lost his. I didn’t think telling him I’d helped to kill mine was a good way to improve his mood.”

Fenris nodded with understanding. “I see. Maybe it’s time to do it.”

“He’s going to hate me.”

The elf looked at her. “Is it about him or about you?”

The question stabbed, but he was not wrong to ask it. “You’re right,” she nodded. “I think tomorrow we’ll sit down with him and together tell him how we met.” She sighed again. “I just hope it’s not going to open the fresh wound of his loss.”

“Be gentle. It’s still quite raw.”

She gave him a look full of pain. Then drew her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees, and hid her face in her arms. She heard him stand up, and leave her be.

She hoped she’d be able to clean up the mess she’d caused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to hear Fenris singing, go here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLhvKithr3s :)


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning Zevran was first up. He checked the traps he had set up the previous night, but none were disturbed. He did that every time they stopped for the night; it saved them from keeping vigil.

Eeyo crawled out of his small tent. Zevran handed him a mug with fresh water and a bun. “We need to talk,” he said.

The youngster rolled his eyes, sighing. “Not you, too.”

“Yes, me too.”

They went toward the lake not to wake the other two up.

“I won’t change my mind,” Eeyo said, sitting down and biting into the bun.

“I would like to know why you want to do this. You have to know the Crows try to kill me. The Crows killed Nadami’s father for running away. Why would you want to risk it?”

“I would not run away.”

“What if something happened, so you would want to?”

“I would rather stay. Nothing would be better than being a Crow.”

“Why? What do you know about being a Crow?”

Eeyo balanced his half-eaten bun on the edge of the mug that was now standing next to his leg, then turned to Zevran. “My father was a carpenter. He was really good. Everyone in the Alienage came to him to fix their things or make new things for them. He also made things for sale outside the Alienage. Pretty chairs and lovely tables. Better quality than what humans made. Nicely decorated and painted.” His face gained a bitter expression. “At best he could sell them for half the price that ugly human furniture was sold. Why? Because an elf made them.” He paused for a moment. “My own future was either to be half-paid carpenter like him or a servant kicked about some rich human’s house.” He grabbed the bun and took a bite. “Now you take me to a community of elves,” he said between munches, “who can’t even build a village. They have to be ready to pack and go away if they upset nearby humans. Sometimes they upset them humans by their mere presence in the neighbourhood. Always on the run. Not having a home.” He swallowed. “You are an elf. You are a Crow. Was your job to carry human Crows’ weapons for them? Clean them and sharpen them for them? Or was your job as important as theirs. Did anyone say ‘no, let’s send a human to take down the Grey Wardens, he’s just an elf’?”

Zevran had never thought about it that way, but he could see the kid’s point. “Elves are recruited for particular reasons, Eeyo.”

“Inferior than humans or different than humans?”

“Different.”

“And that is my point. I don’t want to be a servant to some _shemlen_ all my life, treated like vermin that happens to be useful, so allowed to live another day. And each of those days spent afraid I could catch an eye of a slaver, and end up like Fenris.”

The Antivan was torn. He’d assumed – just like Nadami – that Eeyo’s reasons were naivete and romanticism. But they hadn’t given the kid enough credit. “Eeyo, the price for this equality you’re looking for could be too high. You’re essentially giving up your freedom.”

“An elf never has freedom. It’s always limited by what humans let us do. When a Crow master gives me orders, it is someone who became a master by earning his rank, isn’t it?” Zevran nodded. “Someone who got up there by merit. Not by being born without pointy ears. Are any elves masters?”

Zevran’s eyebrow twitched. “Actually, yes, although not many.”

“Doesn’t matter if many. Few is still more than none.”

The Antivan smiled. “Do you plan to become a master some day?”

Eeyo shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. But knowing that it is possible at all makes it worth it.”

“It’s not an easy life, Eeyo. You have to do a lot of things that aren’t pleasant. Things you may regret.”

“I’m ready to take that chance.”

Zevran sighed, shaking his head. He’d promised Nadami to talk to the youngster, and he’d meant it, but now he wasn’t convinced stopping Eeyo was such a clean-cut better solution.

“Will you talk to Nadami for me?” the young elf asked him.

The Antivan shook his head. “No. This is between the two of you. She made a promise. She owns it to your father to deliver you to safety.”

“Please!”

“Sorry, Eeyo, but no. _You_ need to talk to her.”

“She won’t understand. She’s a human.”

Zevran’s facial expression sharpened. “She would understand better than you think,” he stated firmly.

“I know, I know, she’s not like the others. But…”

“You are in her care, my dear lad. You have to take it up with her.”

“But you came to take it up with me when she sent you,” the kid retorted.

“And I’m clearly over my head, no?” Zevran replied, scratching behind his ear.

Eeyo chuckled. Then he finished his bun.

They returned to the camp to find Fenris and Nadami already packing everything. She gave Zevran a questioning look, and he slightly shook his head. She closed her eyes for a moment, clearly disappointed with his lack of success, and resumed rolling up a blanket.

Eeyo packed the mug, then grabbed his backpack, and approached Nadami. “I will not discuss it any more,” he said firmly. “If you don’t have the courage to talk to me yourself, and send two messengers to do your job, then I see no reason why I should even bother with you.”

“Eeyo!” Fenris was not impressed with the young elf’s rude attitude.

Nadami stared at the kid for a while. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I should have talked to you.”

“Well, too late. I have no interest in hearing what you have to say. I probably heard it from both of them already anyway.” He turned away, and headed for the highway in a quick pace.

“He’s upset,” Zevran explained, picking up his things. “Give him some time to cool down. But–” He hesitated. “I am not sure you can change his mind. I’m not even sure you should.”

She froze, surprised by his words. “You were supposed to convince him, not get convinced by him, Zevran!”

“He’s a lot smarter than you think.”

“As proven by making stupid decisions,” she barked angrily.

He didn’t take it personally. Instead of continuing to argue with her, he followed Eeyo toward the highway. “Look at the bright side,” he said, when she caught up with him. “Neither of us is in the position to help him with those plans.”

“Yeah, that really makes things better,” she snorted sarcastically.

“I’m an assassin, not a diplomat,” he shrugged. The whole situation started to annoy him.

Sadly, she was not ready to give up yet. “That’s your answer? You just wash of your hands? Not your problem?” Her face was getting red from anger.

“I promised to talk to him, yes? So I talked to him.”

“For the– Zevran, you can’t be that stupid!”

He only sighed. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“Ugh, I hate you!” She threw her arms up with tears in her eyes. Well, she was really mad now!

She picked up the pace and went ahead. The Antivan was glad that at least the growingly unpleasant conversation was over. He was a lot less glad Nadami was so upset that she was on the verge of crying.

“What do we do?” Fenris asked. He had walked behind them until now, but caught up with Zevran when Nadami speeded ahead.

“I don’t know,” Zevran replied. “She’s so sensitive. Everything easily gets under her skin. Normally I’d just have sex with her and solve the problem–” The Tevinter’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, don’t give me that look! You know better than that!” Did Fen really think he’d cheat on him? “Besides, she’s angry with me, too. She’s never been angry with me before; I don’t know what to do.”

“I get the impression the kid convinced you. What did he say?”

Zevran explained Eeyo’s reasoning, while Fenris listened nodding from time to time. “We all treat him like a child, but he’s a smart young man,” he said eventually. “I’m not sure he’s right about this course of action, but I heard enough times ‘why are you out of Alienage?’ in Kirkwall to understand how he feels. And I know better than anyone what he’s afraid of.”

The other two were ahead, Eeyo more in front than Nadami, but both quite far. Zevran stopped and grabbed Fenris’s hand. The other elf gave him a surprised look. The Crow pulled him in closer, stood on his tiptoes, and kissed him. They separated and for a while they just stood there with their foreheads touching. Zev placed another quick peck on Fenris’s lips, then resumed their walk.

“Why you grew so tall, mmm?” the Antivan asked.

“Why you didn’t grow even to an elven average?”

“I had other priorities. The Maker rewarded me somewhere else.”

Fenris laughed. “Do you suggest I’m lacking in that aspect?”

“I would never suggest such a thing!” Zevran pretended to be offended. “But I think I’m forgetting the details,” he added, stopped and patted his chin with his finger, faking thoughtfulness. Since they’d joined Nadami, everyone slept in their own small tent, and the two of them hadn’t had much time just to themselves.

“I must make a mental note to remind you soon.”

“Ah, a good plan!” The Crow resumed walking again.

Fenris didn’t move. “Zevran!” he called after the Antivan. The elf stopped and turned to him. He wanted to say ‘I love you’, but the words were stuck in this throat. It was serious, it was a promise, it was bonding and binding. His mouth opened and closed, as the weight of this great declaration and what it meant refused to be just simply said. Words were not enough and yet they were too much. His eyebrows raised in the hopeless attempt at exposing his heart, making his eyes even bigger, and giving his face a mabari pup expression.

Zevran’s face brightened with a loop-sided grin. “Me too,” he said. “Remember that, yes?”

“Yes,” Fenris answered quietly.

 

* * *

 

They stopped for a midday meal. The general atmosphere hadn’t improved. Nadami was still quite upset, and Eeyo refused to talk to her. Zevran suggested to get more food, because they were running low on supplies, so he left with Eeyo to hunt, or fish, or whatever the nature could offer them in this neighbourhood. She was glad they left. She felt guilty for thoughts like that but she was tired of struggling with the situation. At least for a moment she had a respite.

Fenris sat next to her with his food. He ate for a moment in silence but then began, “I never asked you, and you never volunteered to tell me, but... um, why do you care so much about slaves? Zevran said that you work as an investigator who specialises in this kind of thing. Like tracking down people who enable it, kill or arrest them, or – I don’t know all the details.”

“Coin,” she replied instantly. “I’m paid well.”

He watched her with an inclined head for a moment. “Promise me one thing. If you don’t want to tell me something, say so straight forward. Don’t lie to me.”

She lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Fenris. I... This is my default go-to answer, because the truth... no one ever understands, and I was fed up with mockery very, very quickly.” She wiped her empty bowl with the last piece of bread before putting it into her mouth.

“So what is the truth? You were never a slave. You didn’t experience it. You probably never would.”

She was silent for a long while, trying to decide if to open up. In the meantime he finished his food, took her bowl and put into his, ready to be cleaned now. Eventually she looked at him. “I can’t walk by a dog being beaten without feeling horrible about its fate. Without feeling pain inside here.” She put her fist to her chest where her heart was. “It’s even stronger with people. I can’t stop it. I can’t – and don’t want to – fight it. I don’t have to experience hunger to know it’s terrible. I don’t have to be beaten up to know it hurts. I don’t need to put my hand into fire to know it’d be agony.

“Many years ago I tried to warn a Dalish clan that Tevinter hunters were on their way to their settlement. I was too late. I saw what was left behind.” Tears shone in her eyes, and she blinked them away. She’d never told anyone about it; not even Zevran, even though she’d met him later on the same day, and he had been her only anchor to brightness during those dark days. “That was the day when I decided I didn’t want to just be an information broker. I wanted to deal with information to stop such things from happening again.

“If you ask me, more people should be like me. The world would be better. People kinder to each other not for personal gain, but for just the sake of not making anyone’s day worse than it already was. And yes, I realise how arrogant it sounds.” She shrugged.

“You can’t change the whole world all by yourself,” he said softly. She appreciated there was not a patronising note in his voice.

“No, but I can change the whole world for one person. I can change it for Eeyo.” Fenris watched her with those huge, green, wise eyes of his and she felt he could see through her. She lowered her head, avoiding looking at his face. Not for the first time she felt foolish. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. No one ever does. If you of all people can’t understand, you, knowing how terrible that fate can be, with pain etched into your skin, but still can’t find compassion for other slaves in your heart, how can I make anyone else understand. I’m a fool to you like to everyone else. A naive little girl who gets herself into other people’s trouble to bury its weigh. A sucker who needs to be educated that life sucks, learn to accept it, and try to find a bright side.” The last sentence, dripping with sarcasm, felt like an accusation towards Zevran. She didn’t mean it that way but it was the truth that as much as she loved the Antivan, he was not one who would understand any of her feelings.

Fenris put his hand on her head, and gently caressed her hair. “Thank you for sharing it with me,” he murmured. “And in the future, you can tell me anything you want,” he added. “I will listen and try to understand.” Then his expression and voice hardened. “But also don’t insult me, insinuating that I don’t care.”

She smiled at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I get defensive. I know you care. But you still needed to ask why I do.” She sighed. “I don’t need to experience something to easily imagine how horrible it can be. I can’t stop imagining it, even if I wanted.”

“I wanted to ask why someone who hasn’t experienced anything like that would feel so much for those who did or do.” He paused. “I just underestimated your capacity for compassion.” She gave him a smile. “It must be difficult to feel the whole world's pain,” he added quietly. “I have problems with processing just my own.”

She curled up by his side with her head on his shoulder, and enjoyed the moment of peace. She’d seen people who suffered a lot, as much as Fenris, and many of them had hardened from that experience. Not Fen. He’d built a thick, hard shell around him not letting anyone in, but she felt she just found a crack in it. Or maybe he let her in voluntarily. And inside there was someone who was not indifferent, someone who was ready to fight against injustice. She was certain the idea of accompanying her and Eeyo to protect them hadn’t been Zevran’s. The glowy warrior wanted to change someone’s whole world too. She wrapped her arms around him, and wished that moment would never pass. She rarely felt this comfortable with other people, but right now she was completely content.

He also smelled nice, so nice.

For the first time in her life her heart fluttered for someone other than Zevran.


	17. Chapter 17

The closer they were to the supposed location of the Dalish camp, the more Nadami worried the information she had was outdated. They arrived to the foot of the hill chain the elves had supposedly settled.

“A good strategic spot,” Fenris noted.

Indeed, the three of them were exposed in the plain, while the forest uphill covered its secrets and possible watchers. They chose the path to climb up, hoping being open in their approach wouldn’t earn them an arrow in the chest. Nadami put a hood on her head, hiding her ears. Eeyo pulled it down. He hadn’t spoken to her for days now, still angry about being forced to join the Dalish. She pulled the hood up, and he took it down again.

“Stop that. They could shoot me,” she said, pulling it up again.

Again, he pulled it down.

“Eeyo!” Zevran sighed.

She pulled it up, and the boy’s hand raised toward it, while he was eyeing the Crow. The Antivan frowned at him, and shook his head warningly. Eeyo pouted, but didn’t try to pull it down again. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Nadami would literally laugh at the thought of Zevran becoming a father figure. It was both funny and wonderful. But she didn’t feel like laughing at all right now. She also wasn’t sure if the reason was Eeyo being upset, or the fact that once she fulfilled his father’s promise she’d never see him again. The thought was painful. She knew she would miss him.

They were halfway up the hill, when two archers emerged from the forest above them, and waited for them over there. They quickly reached the Dalish.

“What do you want?” the woman asked, eyeing everyone one by one.

“We have brought someone,” Zevran explained.

Eeyo snorted. Nadami went to the front of the group. “His mother’s name was Allira,” she said. She hoped it would mean something to them, and make the further conversation easier.

The man frowned, but the woman’s expression softened. “And you came from Redcliff?”

“Yes. He did.”

The young elf turned away, and looked down the hill. Fenris put his hand on the kid’s shoulder, as if trying to make sure he wouldn’t run away. Not that any elf could outrun the long-legged Tevinter.

“I met his father when they both were on their way here,” Nadami explained taking down her hood, and exposing her ears. She had nothing to hide any more. “I promised to help them to get here safely. His father died on the way from a wound he’d received in Redcliff.”

Both Dalish watched her for a moment. Then the woman turned to the boy. “What’s your name?” she asked.

He refused to answer. Only shrugged, but Nadami wasn’t sure he didn’t just try to shrug off Fenris’s hand.

“Come with me,” the Dalish said. She nodded to the other one, he nodded back, and stayed at his post, while she led them to the heart of the camp. Then approached a group of elves. One of them clearly the Keeper, judging by his clothes. “Keeper, these strangers bring one of ours.”

The Keeper waved the others away. “My name is Galarith. I am the Keeper of this clan.”

“This is Eeyo, son of Allira. His father asked me to bring him here.”

Eeyo glared at her, then at the Keeper.

“Against his will?” Galarith asked. His voice was even, but Nadami sensed a pinch of a threat in it.

“His mother died a few years ago. His father took him and left Redcliff after an attack on the elves living over there. He intended to bring him here. He died on the way.”

“Why is the child so angry?”

“He… doesn’t want to stay here. It’s...” She blushed. “It’s my fault. I told him stories, and he would like to be an adventurer now.”

“I see.” Galarith’s expression softened. He looked at the boy. “Do you know where your name comes from?” he asked. The youngster only shrugged. Again. “It was the name of your mother’s brother. They were very close as children.”

“Did you know her?” Nadami asked.

“Yes, I remember her. A stubborn young lady.”

“Ah, so that where he gets it from,” Zevran said.

The Keeper waved to someone, and a female elf approached them. “She’ll find a place for you,” Galarith told scowling Eeyo.

Fenris handed her one of the bags he carried. “His belongings,” he said.

She nodded, took the bag, then gently prodded the boy to go with her.

“Eeyo,” Nadami said quietly. She wanted to say goodbye.

He abruptly turned to her. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t you ever talk to me again, _shemlen_!”

The slur hit her in the face harder than a fist.

“Eeyo!” Fenris’s frown was furious as his nose wrinkled in anger.

“This is not good,” Zevran mumbled under his breath.

Nadami barely heard them. Her eyes filled with tears, and the world was but a mess of colours. She hadn’t even been aware how much she grew attached to that boy until now. Until he was ripped away from her by his own hatred. She ran toward the path, she wanted to get out of there. The camp felt like sucking all air out of her lungs. She couldn’t stay there any longer. She didn’t want to stay there any longer. She needed to get out, to inhale air, to breathe, to survive.

 

* * *

 

Galarith looked at the remaining elves. “Thank you for bringing him here,” he said. “I am not sure what caused the conflict, but I am sure when his anger subsides, he’s going to be sorry for his words.”

“We can’t stay here,” Zevran replied.

“You are always welcome, though. She is also.” He emphasised the last words. “She’ll always be. Make sure she knows.”

“We’ll tell her,” Fenris assured him.

They followed her.

“He broke her heart,” Zevran said.

“He sure did.”

They found her sitting on the ground by the main road at the bottom of the hill. She seemed to have calmed down. She rose as they approached her. “My task is done. Now we can do whatever you need to do.”

“Nadami,” Fenris said softly.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she barked at him. Then bit her lip. “Sorry.”

He nodded, accepting her apology, and gave her a small smile. “They say you can always come for a visit.”

“What for? The one I’d visit hates me. No point in returning there. Ever.” She sniffed. Fenris didn’t press. She was still very upset, and barely holding it together, so he didn’t want to break through the weak defences she had managed to build.

“I know an abandoned house about a couple of days away from here,” Zevran said. “We could stop there for a while, rest, then consider our options.”

“Sounds good to me,” Fenris agreed.

“Which way?” Nadami asked.

The Antivan pointed to south-east, so she headed in that direction. Zevran followed her, and when he was right next to her, he took her hand, and held it. Fenris watched her for a moment; her shoulders were slouched, her head slightly lowered. It was obvious what kind of mood the recent development had left her in. He hoped a day would come when both Nadami and Eeyo could patch up what had happened today. He was no stranger to doing stupid things when upset; he was also certain the attachment they had formed was stronger than stupid things said in anger. But it was not happening today. He jogged to catch up with Zevran and Nadami, then started walking on the other side of her. After a moment he also took her hand; she didn’t tear it away.

And so they walked, holding hands, like three friends, from the tallest to the shortest…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeyo does an impersonation of Schwarzenegger: "I'll be back".


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small warning:
> 
> The chapter contains description of bloody gore. Not very detailed, but more than usual. A certain elf's PTSD (which I believe he kind of suffers from) triggers and gets out of control.

The evening approached and it was getting darker.

“Where are we going exactly?” Fenris asked Zevran.

“There’s a hut in Korcari Wilds. No one lives there now...” He silenced for a moment. “I presume,” he added. “It belonged to Flemeth. At least she introduced herself as one. I’m still not sure how true that was.”

“Wait, _the_ Flemeth? The witch?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t still live there?” Nadami asked. It was the first time she spoke for hours, since they’d left Eeyo with the Dalish. She was vaguely aware the elves had chatted quietly over her head, but most of the time she had been lost in her thoughts and hadn’t paid much attention to it.

“Quite sure, yes,” Zevran confirmed. “We killed her after she turned into a dragon. With the Grey Wardens, I mean.”

“Hmmm...” Fenris said. “I saw her on Sundermount. Hawke delivered her in a locket brought from Lothering, then she turned into a dragon and flew away.”

Nadami first looked at Zevran, then at Fenris. “In a locket? Inside? You’re both making that up.”

They both shook their heads. “Nope,” the Antivan said.

“Come on! First of all, Flemeth is just a myth. Second, you couldn’t see someone turn into a dragon. That’s just impossible. And last, if one of you killed her, the other couldn’t see her after that.”

“I remember she said a part of her arrived to Sundermount,” Fenris said. “And that part was enough. Then she flew away.”

“So what? A part of her got killed by Grey Wardens and Co. and the other part went to the Free Marches?” Nadami still didn’t believe them.

“That would explain how she lives so long. Not one easy to kill. A useful skill, no?” Zevran joked.

“You both met a mythical witch who in your presence turned into a dragon, at different times, in different places?” They both nodded. She frowned. “Thedas must be really really small that everybody stumbles upon each other.”

Suddenly Fenris stopped. They both looked at him. “What is wrong?” Zevran asked and looked in the same direction the Tevinter was looking. “Light,” he stated, answering his own question.

“There is a house here?” Fenris asked out loud, even though he didn’t expect either of them to know the reply.

“It is the highway,” Nadami noted. “Maybe it’s a tavern for travellers.”

“Maybe,” Zevran nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a normal, clean bed. Ground gets old really fast,” she said and looked at both elves. She hadn’t slept in a regular bed since that house she’d found Rakeen and Eeyo in. With the young elf back on her mind, she let a heavy, sad sigh.

“Do we have enough coin left?” Fenris asked.

They pooled their remaining funds, and decided to see if that was enough to get a room for the night.

They headed toward the light, and indeed it was candles shining through windows of ‘Wilds’ Inn’.

Nadami entered the tavern, and immediately regretted their decision. A place like this was filled with random people, passers-by from anywhere to everywhere, and the mix not always was pleasant. Or safe. This particular mix was a fairly average mingle of travellers with one exception that drew attention to it: a burly man in Tevinter mage’s robes. He was at the table, eating a hearty meal. He didn’t look especially threatening or dangerous, but she knew Fenris didn’t need much provocation. The man’s presence was enough.

A movement in the shadow drew her attention, and she noticed a tiny teenage elf girl sitting on the floor by his feet.

This was not going to end well.

Zevran and Fenris entered right after her, and looked around. She looked at the taller elf, and watched his reaction. Her heart skipped a bit when the first emotion on his face was fear. Then it turned into an angry frown. When his eyes shifted lower – he had to notice the elf – the frown deepened into wrinkling his nose fury. His lips slightly opened and he bared his teeth almost like a mabari.

This really was not going to end well.

Nadami felt like killing the mage, and then finding the girl a safe place to start a new life. She was telling herself that it was both ridiculous and the right thing to do at the same time. She couldn’t even began imagine how Fenris felt, seeing those two. She tried to wrap her hand around his arm in support, but he tore his hand out of hers.

“You two don’t start anything,” Zevran said quietly.

He moved toward a table in a corner. It hadn’t been cleaned up yet, but it was secluded, and they usually tried to stay out of centre of attention. Nadami followed him, hoping Fenris would too, and he did. Still eyeing the mage, tough.

The man absent-mindedly looked up, and his eyes landed on the only people that were up and moving: the three of them. He seemed like just about to dismiss them as immaterial, but either Fenris’s obvious hostility drew his attention, but something else that screamed ‘I’m an angry former Tevinter slave’. The mage froze and watched Fenris for a long moment before his eyes went to study Nadami and Zevran. After that he resumed his eating, and didn’t appear to be interested in them any more.

Their table cleaned and food served, the matter seemed to quietly die out without an issue. Nadami knew Fenris well enough by now to see he still was on edge but kept it under control.

The mage finished his food, and the girl cleaned up the table without waiting for the tavern staff to do it. He then paid and headed for the exist, the elf behind him. He slowed down, pulled her closer, and grabbed by the buttock. She tried to pull away, but he would not have any of it; he squeezed harder, and also seemed to be almost crushing her arm, judging by the redness that appeared on her skin around his fingers.

“Leave her alone!” Fenris roared raising.

The mage pushed her outside the door, then looked over his shoulder at the furious elf. “I knew you would be trouble.” They had a staring contest for a long while, then the human said with contempt, “Come and stop me, I dare you. Then I’ll deliver you to your master.” Then he purposefully turned away from Fenris, showing how little the elf’s anger worried him, and walked out.

That was too much. Fenris followed him in giant leaps, and Nadami ran after him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to help him or to stop him.

She was barely outside the door, but she saw that Fenris reached the mage, who was still turned to them with his back. A glowy hand went through his torso. The elven girl covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide open. Nadami went to her, and moved her away from the other two.

But Fenris wasn’t done. He pulled out his hand, while the mage – still alive – bent forward in pain. The elf grabbed his hair and pulled back, exposing the man’s throat. Then sank his hand in his belly, and – Nadami couldn’t believe her eyes – pulled some of his insides out. The sound was absolutely horrible. The smell not much better. The girl in her arms whimpered and turned away. Fenris’s hand again sank in the man, and again pulled out some of his gut, leaving it dangling in a bloody, smelly, glistening mess. The mage didn’t seem capable of any defence at this point. It seemed he wasn’t even able to take a breath in for a scream. Heavy wheezing was all that was heard. Fenris put his hand inside again. How long was he going to do this? Nadami wondered. She looked at her friend’s face, and the rage it expressed was endless. Ghostly glow surrounding him gave out light making him look like a god of revenge. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head, she wasn’t even sure he was fully aware of what he was doing. It was a reaction, pouring out of him, shutting down his thinking, his conscience, his reason.

Something cracked inside the mage, and his legs gave under him. Or perhaps Fenris stopped holding him up, Nadami couldn’t tell.

“Take her inside.” Zevran’s voice brought her out of the trance of watching the gore scene. He was next to her – she hadn’t even noticed when he came out – pointing to the tavern. “And close the door.”

The girl didn’t resist, and just let her guide her away from the horrifying show. Nadami closed the door behind her. People peeking through it moved to the windows. The tavern’s owner stood by the bar with his arms crossed, glaring at her angrily. She approached him.

“I suppose I should thank you for this carnage taking place outside,” he said angrily.

“I’m sorry about that.” It was not good. She needed him compliant, not upset. If he said not to her proposal, there were still the Dalish, but she didn’t believe she had any right to back there and ask for a favour. “Do you need help? I mean, to hire another pair of hands?”

He gave her a look that seemed to question her sanity. “What? You’re looking for a job?”

“No, but she needs one now.”

His eyes softened when he looked at the former now slave. He sighed. “And what if his goonies come here?”

“Someone back in Tevinter will be happy he doesn’t come back, and take all he owns. They won’t care about her.” Nadami looked at the elf, who stared at her with surprise. “It’s not her fault.” She looked back at the owner. “Especially not what’s happening outside. We’ll deal with that.”

“That strange elf is dangerous.”

“Only to mages who own and mistreat people.”

The man was hesitant, but the lack of clear ‘no’ gave her hope. “Can you cook? Clean? Serve patrons not spilling drinks?”

She nodded.

“You pay her,” Nadami said, emphasising the word ‘pay’.

“Who do you think I am?” the owner seemed insulted by the implication.

“You’re a good man,” she smiled. “I’m sorry for the trouble. We’ll fix it. We’ll clean up.”

“You better!” He looked at the elf. “Come!” he led her to the kitchen.

She followed him without a word, but stopped and turned to Nadami. She didn’t say anything; she probably didn’t know what to say. Stripped of will, of dreams, of the ability to decide for herself, she most likely didn’t even know if it was better or worse. Nadami smiled at her, and the elf smiled back. She promised herself to return here in a few weeks to see how things were.

They went to the kitchen, and she went outside to see what was going on there. Some of the patrons had returned to their tables, so she assumed the show had ended.

Zevran stood with his hands on his hips. Nadami rarely saw him this annoyed. Not angry, but very annoyed. Fenris hovered over a red pulp of what used to be the mage. It looked like he had turned him inside out. She was grateful for the darkness of the night. The moonlight wasn’t enough to expose every gross detail of the surely sickening butchery.

Fenris had literally torn the man apart, piece by piece. Limb by limb. Now, covered in his victim’s blood, he kicked a palm away. One of gold rings rolled off a finger, and the tall elf stepped on it, trying to crush it under his bare heel. He couldn’t, naturally, so he tried to kick it. Zevran went to the ring and took care of it with his Antivan boot. Fenris gave him a look of surprise, as if he just now realised Zevran was here. His expression changed, relaxed, and calmed down. It seemed Zev’s presence had an appeasing influence. He looked around, slightly bewildered. It almost looked like he just woke up and wondered what had happened.

“Pay for our meal, and bring our things out,” Zevran told Nadami.

“Where is the girl?” Fenris asked.

“I got her a job,” she replied.

“I have to see her.” He motioned toward the door.

“No.” She stood in his way. “She’s going to be all right. And you scared her. I also don’t think anyone wants you inside.” She regretted her words. They sounded accusatory, and she didn’t mean it that way. But what had been said had been said. The look he gave her made it clear. “I’m sorry.”

He just turned away, and started walking.

“We need to clean up this mess,” she told Zevran. “I promised the tavern owner.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he sighed. It was clear he was not looking forward to it. “Get our belongings, then follow him. I’ll catch up soon.”

She nodded and returned to the tavern.

 

* * *

  
Forced to change their plans, they found a safe and quiet spot for the night camp. While Zevran and Nadami dropped their things near where they’d build the fire, Fenris took his further away. They left him alone for the time being. When the fire was ready, she went to search for the Tevinter.

She found him sitting by his unpacked stuff. She was sure he wasn’t in the mood for menial tasks, so she decided to do it for him.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Fenris whispered. She looked at him. He was absently staring at the ground in front of him. She put the blanket she was holding away, and sat next to him, gently wrapping her hands around his arm and putting her chin on his shoulder. She looked at his profile. He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly. “I just wanted him to suffer. I wanted him dead but I wanted him to feel as much pain before he died as possible. As much as it takes to wipe someone’s memory.” He silenced for a long moment. “This wasn’t about her. This was about me.” Another long moment of silence. “You know what horrifies me most about it?”

“No,” she replied quietly.

“I felt pleasure. I felt satisfaction. At that moment I felt like it was right.” He hid his face in his hands. “I’m a monster.”

“No, you’re not,” she protested.

“I enjoyed torturing a man. How does that not make me a monster? How does that not make me as despicable as he was?”

“You’re nothing alike.”

He ripped himself completely out of her grasp. “How?” he barked.

“He is cruel to others, he was cruel to her, because he could. Because he could get away with it. Because he enjoyed being cruel.”

“So did I!”

“You leaped to her defence. You felt a need of protecting her.”

“I could have killed him quickly. But I didn’t!” He started pacing.

“Fenfen...” She waited for him to calm a little. “What had been done to you, it had to leave scars. I don’t mean only the markings, I mean everything. You lived through a nightmare. You lived through being forced to do things you didn’t want to do. You were created to do things you would never choose to do. Not only your body was violated, but also your mind.” He stopped pacing, and looked at her. “What happened there… it’s not your fault. It happened not because you take pleasure from inflicting pain, but because you suffered pain.”

He sat on the ground in front of her. “Sometimes I have dreams,” he said. “Nightmares, rather.” He silenced for a moment, and she wasn’t sure he wanted to compose his thoughts or waited for her signal to continue. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she just gently took his hand and placed on hers. It prompted him to share more. “They usually make little sense. Images, sounds, events developing in a ridiculous way. Like dreams sometimes do. He’s almost always there. Often of unnatural huge size, towering over me, holding one end of the chain.” He looked at her face. “The other one is attached to a thick metal collar on my neck.”

He silenced again, so she asked, “Is that just a dream or it really happened?” She didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was: Danarius.

“They are not as frequent as they used to be now, but they happen.” She took his refusal to answer her question as confirmation. She didn’t intend to press the issue. “Yesterday, it was almost like one of those nightmares came to life. I don’t know why.” He shook his head exasperated. “Something he said. He moved in a certain way. He smelled. Or maybe just his mere existence was enough.” He finished with growing anger. His nose wrinkled as hatred shaped his expression. He blinked it away, and his face gained a feel of hopelessness. “I don’t want to be like this. Why can’t I stop being like this?”

She moved closer to him, took his head in her hands, and raised it a bit to look into his eyes. “You are not like this, Fenfen.”

“Then who was the monster who literally ripped a man apart?”

“Danarius.” His eyebrows raised at her answer. “He planted that inside you. He and the likes of him. I hope some day the monster dies, but it wasn’t today. Probably not tomorrow.”

“So what makes me different than them!” he shouted, ripped himself from her grasp again, and stood up.

“You regret. You beat yourself up for it. They never did. They are incapable of it. That is what makes a difference.” She stood up too. “We all screw up. We all make mistakes, some more grave than other. But only some of us come to regret and wish we could undo them. That’s what makes a whole world of a difference.”

He looked at her for a moment, then went to her and gave her a hug. She returned it, although hers wasn’t as tight at his, since she couldn’t tell where was the threshold between severe discomfort and pain, and they stood like that for a very long moment. He didn’t seem to want to disengage, so she rubbed his back trying to comfort him more. She could be here the whole night, if he needed it.

She felt her hair band sliding. He moved away enough to look at her face, but not enough to let go. Still holding her close with one hand, he held her band in the other. “Can I keep this?” he asked.

Not sure what he’d do with her hair band – his hair was too short to use it – she replied, “Sure.”

He hugged her again for a moment, then disengaged. “Thank you, I needed that little pep talk.”

She put her hand gently on his cheek. “Any time, Fenfen.”

He smiled and kissed the inside of her palm. She rubbed his cheek with her thumb, and for a moment she thought they’d draw closer for a kiss, but then he moved away, and started unpacking his stuff. Silently swallowing her disappointment, she headed back to prepare her own makeshift bed.

As she was walking away toward her own backpack, she noticed that her hair band was now on Fenris’s right wrist.


	19. Chapter 19

The cottage was abandoned and looked like no one had been there for years. They spent most of the first day cleaning it up and chasing away spiders and mice, but then finally could rest.

There still was a dragon skeleton outside. After they finished their evening meal – first in forever cooked on a stove instead of a simple bonfire – Zevran told them the story of great slaying of Flemeth the Dragon. He peppered it with silliness and boasting, making the other two chuckle all the time.

That began their main past time: stories. For the next few days they shared their adventures with each other. Nadami and Zevran told Fenris about their exploits, and Zevran and Fenris told Nadami what had happened when they’d met the first and second time.

Twice she tried to ask Zevran what had brought him to her, but both times he’d changed the subject. She gave up, knowing eventually he’d reveal it.

 

* * *

 

The meal was ready, but Nadami didn’t want to eat alone, so she covered the pot to keep the food warm for as long as possible, and decided to wait for the elves to return, who’d gone somewhere a while ago. After steaming near the hot stove she felt like a refreshing swim, so she went outside and walked toward the lake. She found a quiet spot to safely leave her clothes, stripped, and stepped into cool, pleasant water. She swam closer to the middle of the lake, taking deeps breaths, and enjoying the odour of flowers that carried over the water. The setting sun coloured the top of trees bright red, and cast shadows on lower layers of the Wilds’ forest. She moved closer to the other side of the lake, when something that did not belong – not part of the natural vista – caught her eye.

She stopped and just floated, when the brain put the view together with the faint sound that travelled to her ears above the lake.

Zevran and Fenris; the naked Tevinter sitting on as naked Antivan’s hips with Zev’s forehead leaning against his chest, as the tall elf’s back was arched in ecstasy. Then he pulled back to the other one, wrapped his arms around Zevran’s shoulders and leant his cheek on the top of his head. They sat like that for a short while, panting, one lodged on top of the other, hugging. They started kissing, and Fenris pushed Zevran onto his back, then leaned to him and his face disappeared in the crook between the Antivan’s shoulder and neck.

“I… I should not be here,” Nadami mumbled to herself, turned around, and swam back as quietly as she could. She didn’t want them to know she’d violated their privacy. She hadn’t wanted to violate their privacy.

Her heart beat fast. Conflicting feelings of betrayal, disappointment and understanding filled her eyes with tears. She felt horrible. She felt guilty for not sharing their happiness, but right now her charity ran out. After so many years since Nimloth’s death, she believed there was no chance for Zevran to move on. She didn’t even try to steal his kisses, because she knew – or thought she did – he had none to give her any more. To give anyone. But he had moved on. Just… not with her. The worst thing was he’d moved on with someone who seemed to be the only man who could make her move on away from him, and finally be free of this unrequited love. Now she understood why all those sweet moments with Fenris had never led to anything deeper. He hadn’t had any kisses to give her either, because all his kisses belonged to Zevran!

She hated them. She never hated anyone in her life this much. She didn’t want to see either of them ever again.

Bitter, resentful, jealous, she went to her room, scribbled on a piece of paper ‘You owe Fenris two bottles of wine’, then went and fetched the said two bottles. She knew she couldn’t stay here any more. She knew she had to free herself from those feelings, to find someone else, someone cute, someone who would love her back. Why no one ever loved her? Was she that bad? Why was she so unlovable?!

The more drunk she was, the sadder her mood and deeper self-pity, and the more ridiculous her plans for the future.

She was almost at the bottom of the other bottle, when the door opened, letting in a little of cool air, stirring what little energy she had left and clearing a bit her muddy drunk mind. She looked up to see both elves. Zevran was amused by the sight, Fenris had a deep frown which could be worry, or anger, or ‘why are you drinking my wine?’

She stood up, wobbling. “You!” She pointed at Zevran with one hand, using the other to support herself on the back of the chair. “You’re the curse of my life!” Then her voice softened. “I loved you from the moment I saw you. I cherished –ished every second you gave me. I accepted you’d never love me back, or even notice, because the Crow thing and all that crappy crap. And then… and then that bitch!” She shouted the last word. “You loved _her._ ” Her voice broke, so she took a breath and continued heatedly. “I lost you forever. I didn’t even have a chance for what little you had to give me any more. Then she died, and you still were thinking only of her. I was never getting you back. Never!” she whispered, as her own voice choked her. She took a few deep breaths, trying not to slur words any more and failing, then looked at the bottle on the table. After that her eyes went to Fenris. “I thought his pwetty green eyes were my salvation. His lovely expressive eyb– eye– eyebrows showing every emotion… I thought he was what I needed. What I could have. What I wanted. Someone I could share my feelings with and who wouldn’t laugh at me.” She slumped back into the chair. “Someone whose heart isn’t set on a woman who’s been dead for 10 bloody years.” She looked up at Zevran, jumped up, grabbed the bottle and threw it at the wall. “But you took that away from me too!” she shouted. The sudden movement made her dizzy, so she closed her eyes, leant on the table with both hands waiting for it to pass, and trying not to throw up. Then she looked at both of them, from one face to the other, barely seeing them through her tears. “I’m in a company of two cufffest– cuss– cutest elves I’ve ever seen, and I can’t love either of them,” she said very quietly. She spread her arms in a gesture of hopelessness. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m not a Crow, I have feefflings,” she mumbled.

She wobbled out of the room, ignoring Fenris who followed her and tried to stop her. She pushed him away. She was outside, not even knowing where she wanted to go, but as far away from them as possible.

 

* * *

 

Fenris, after making sure she wasn’t headed toward water and wouldn’t drown in this state, returned to the room to see Zevran sitting at the table, playing with the other empty bottle. The former Crow was serious and silent, his eyebrows drawn together.

“I never meant to hurt her,” he said quietly.

“But you knew this would happen,” Fenris answered. “You knew.” He didn’t mean to sound accusatory, so he immediately regretted his words that came out a lot harsher than intended.

“I thought… I thought there were things more important. I also didn’t think she’d fall for you too.” His eyes went to her hair band on his lover’s wrist. “Or that she would find a place in your heart.”

Suddenly the Tevinter felt a surge of guilt, while he absent-mindedly covered the band with his other hand. He wasn’t completely innocent in this. He hadn’t made it clear to her that he wasn’t available. He returned her hugs, and her smiles, and he liked her a lot more than he should. He tried to convince himself that the band was a sign of their new friendship, but the truth was it meant more to him than that. Their late night talks about things they couldn’t share with anyone, even Zevran, had drawn them close, very close. And her red hair was as tempting with its softness as Zev’s.

The Antivan looked up at the other elf. “If you two decided you’d rather be with each other, I wouldn’t even be upset. If that’s what would make you happy, I would be happy too.” His facial expression made Fenris’s heart ache. He could claim being brave all he wanted but he couldn’t fool the Tevinter.

“And you think we’d want to hurt you?” Fenris asked. He loved Zevran, it was as simple as that.

But Nadami? Was it possible to be in love with two people? His feelings for the elf weren’t weaker because of her presence. If anything they grew stronger with each day as he gradually got to know Zev better with time; he had no doubt about them being together. But Nadami? But Nadami?

“I was once told I’m terrible at planning, so I don’t even try. Tomorrow can bring horrible things, and I don’t want to waste time on causing pain to either of you today. Do you?”

“You’re the epitome of enjoying each day like it’s the last one, Zevran.” Fenris raked aside a wisp of hair from the other elf’s face, and tucked it behind his ear.

“She’s beautiful. I love the little freckles that pepper her face,” the Antivan said, his gaze still on his lover’s face. “Her skin is smooth and delicate. It bruises easily. You’d have to be a tad more gentle with her than you are with me, unless you want to leave marks. She wouldn’t mind them. She’d wear them with pride: ‘I belong to him’. And the thing she does to ears…” He sighed longingly.

“Why are you saying these things to me?” Fenris was confused. And aroused.

“She wants us both. And we both want her.”

The confusion was cleared, the arousal increased, but so did a frown on his face. “But...”

“That would make us all happy, no?”

Fenris had no immediate answer to that but the question gave him a pause. His trust in people in general was non-existent. His own sister had sold him out for her own gain. The first person he had opened to and loved had found someone else to share her life with, and she had discarded him like a used blunt sword. A while ago he’d thought he’d never get close to anyone again. It was not worth the risk. But he realised that that line had been crossed already with Zevran and Nadami, and he couldn’t even tell when. If they told him to walk through fire, promising it wouldn’t hurt, he would do it without question. So many times he had caught himself thinking of Nadami the way he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to end it with Zevran, but she intrigued him as no one ever before did. It confused him, so he let it steam inside in status quo.

He knew Zevran and Nadami’s friendship dated way back, so their close relationship appeared natural to him. After almost fifteen years of never broken trust, it should be normal. Maybe he even should be jealous; he never had someone he could rely on this much for that long. Not even his family. Not Hawke either, sadly. All felt conditional and temporary. But he wasn’t jealous; he was happy for them. His only wish to have something like that some day too.

But didn’t he now have it? Maybe this was where the fifteen-year journey started. “I have nothing but you two,” he said. “However, that is a lot,” he added after a moment. “That is all I need.”

Zevran looked at him. He watched him for a moment, then his face brightened with a smile. He leant to Fenris and kissed him. “Let’s find her. In this condition she couldn’t get far.”

They went out and indeed found her sleeping in grass not far from the door. Zevran burst into laughter, while Fenris picked her up and carried to her room. He tucked her in, and they left her sleeping.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit NSFW smut in the first part of the chapter.

The headache was unbearable. Her own groan of pain made it worse. She sat up, and felt like throwing up. She endured without an accident, then slowly opened her eyes only to close them again. “Never again,” she mumbled to herself.

She sat immobile for a few long moments, trying not to die, then tried to open her eyes the second time. There was a note on the box next to her bed, so she slowly reached for it. ‘You owe Fenris two bottles of wine’ was scribbled on it in her own handwriting.

Right, it came back to her. She had been upset, jealous like an idiot – not sure of which elf, to be perfectly honest – feeling incredibly lonely, and decided to drown her sorrow in wine.

She dragged herself outside to the main room. Both elves were having the morning meal.

“Um...” she muttered. They looked up at her. “Did I mess up a lot last night?”

“You don’t remember?” Zevran asked.

She shook her head. “No. Umm… no.” She sat down at the table.

“Such a weak head,” Fenris commented. She wasn’t sure he was joking or serious. Sometimes it was really hard to tell with him.

“Hungry?” Zev got up and went to bring her some food.

“I don’t even have to ask.” Fenris also rose, grabbed a mug and filled it with water.

They put everything in front of her, then simultaneously placed a kiss on each of her cheeks. “I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled, grabbing the mug. She emptied it in one go. “Did I do something stupid?”

The elves looked at each other, then back at her, and said at the same time, “No.”

“I am certain you’re both lying, but I also think I don’t want to know.”

“You were just very very sad,” Fenris told her.

“And very very drunk.” Zevran’s ‘r’ was unusually vibrating in his ‘very’.

“I’m glad Eeyo wasn’t here to see it.” She took a few bites, and knew she couldn’t many more, as her stomach rebelled. Instead, she took some more water. She watched them eating, and felt embarrassed by her feelings from last night. Zevran was finally happy. Naturally, he’d never forget his Warden, but it was good he could find someone else to give him what everyone should have in their life. And nothing could be more appropriate for brooding Fenris than cheerful, optimistic Zev who could turn everything into a joke, and make a stone smile. “I’m going to get some more sleep,” she said rising. She drank another mug of water before leaving to her room.

She had to sleep most of the day, because when she woke up, sun was on the other side, making her room darker and the air cooler than during the day. She sat on her bed, wondering if she felt well enough to eat something, and once again promising herself to never drink that much.

“How are you feeling?” Fenris asked, standing in the doorway, and leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“I’ll get you your wine back. I mean… I’ll buy you new wine. I hope yours won’t try to go back again.” She placed her hand on her stomach and gently patted it.

He smiled. “It’s _our_ wine, not mine. You were very entitled to it, no less than I.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I’m a bit better, I think,” she answered his initial question.

He sat next to her. “Hungry?”

She shook her head. “Not that much better. I’ll probably stay here and rest some more. If I ever try anything this stupid, go glowy, and pull my brain out. Clearly, I don’t use it anyway.”

He wrapped his arm around her, and she put her head on his shoulder. He always smelled so good. She wasn’t sure it was the lyrium in his skin, or just him, but she liked it. He leant to her and gently touched her lips with his. Her hand went to his hair before she realised what was happening.

“Fenris, what are you doing?” she gasped, trying to move away. “Where’s Zevran?”

As if on cue, the other elf entered the room with a mug, and handed it to her. She took it, eyed Fenris slightly suspiciously, then drank some water, glancing at the Antivan elf with a guilty expression. Zev sat on the other side from Fen, and raked her hair away from her shoulder. Then kissed her neck. With her mouth still on the mug, she side looked at him. Her confusion grew.

“What did I do last night?” she asked, putting the empty mug away.

“We told you, you were very sad,” Fenris replied.

“We know how to improve your mood,” Zevran added.

“We want you to be happy, not sad.” The Tevinter’s voice was a pleasant murmur.

“Say ‘no’, and we leave, and never bring it up again.” Her hand went to Zev’s ear. He closed his eyes. “Oh, I missed this so much,” he sighed.

“Uhm…” Fenris cleared his throat. She looked at him, and he leaned toward her, ear first. She laughed, and stroked its tip with her other hand. He pulled her in, and finally managed to place that kiss on her lips. She felt his tongue exploring.

“This is going to be so much fun!” Zevran declared cheerfully, and started undressing her.

She passively let them lead, giving in to whatever they wanted to do with her. Their attention was fully on her for a long while.

“I had no idea I missed you so much,” Zevran whispered to her ear, showering her with kisses and cuddling. He moved onto her, leaned on his stretched arms and looked at her. For a moment it felt like the time went back, like it had been back then at the lake, just without any daggers at anyone’s throats. He moved his finger along the tattoo he had made all those years ago. Then he placed a kiss on it. She felt him inside, moaned closing her eyes, and letting her body experience everything that was happening to it. He wasn’t the only one she had been with, but by far was the best. The sole human had been a painful experience, and any other elf was… trying hard, but after Zevran, everybody felt like half-arsing whatever they did.

She felt his hair on her chest, his breath on her breasts, and his cock inside sending spasms of pleasure. Sometimes he leant closer to place a kiss on her nipple or neck, but then stretched his arms. She knew he liked to watch her.

Zev slowed for a moment, then sat up, but still not pulling out. She felt his hands on her hips. She opened her eyes to see Fenris’s hands on the Antivan’s chest, holding him tight from behind. She could see Fen’s white hair, as he leant his forehead on Zevran’s shoulder. A tiny sigh escaped the Crow’s lips, then another. He resumed his moves gently, falling into the rhythm with Fenris behind him, a lot less in control now than he had been before. The Tevinter’s murmurs only heightened her own excitement.

It didn’t take long for Zev to come. “I got the best deal out of it, no?” he giggled, falling on his back next to her, gasping.

Fenris rolled his eyes, amused, while Nadami pulled him towards her. She was afraid to touch him, worried she’d cause pain, but he didn’t shy away when she tried to caress his shoulder. He leant on his elbows, wrapping his arms behind her shoulders, spread her legs wider with his thighs, and gently put his cock inside her. It slid in easily. She was moist, excited, and hungry for more. His moves quickened the pace, and her hips responded in kind. Overwhelmed by pleasure, by his smell, by his quiet bear-like moaning, by his tongue travelling on her skin, she reached the peak quickly. But he didn’t stop, he wasn’t ready, and before she knew it, she reached it again.

Zevran watched them with a smile. By the time they were done, he was ready to go, so she leaned down, and licked his swollen cock. He slumped on his back, and let her suck on it, playing with her hair.

She blissfully fell asleep wrapped in white lyrium arms of spooning her Fenris with her hand on Zevran’s chest, curious to see if it was a one time thing, or a permanent arrangement. She had to admit to herself that having both pairs of ears to cuddle instead of neither was a lot more alluring.

Whatever had happened last night, she was grateful for their solution. Maybe they had noticed her by the lake, or maybe she had said or done something later. It didn’t matter any more. All she knew was that she loved them. Both.

 

* * *

 

Zevran had prepared the morning meal, and waited for the other two to wake up. He felt bliss but it was slightly marred. He worried that after the moment had passed, Fenris and Nadami would have doubts about this arrangement. Fenris was a man with trust issues – not unfounded, Zevran was fully aware of that – and Nadami had been extremely upset and not fully herself. He wanted her happy, he wanted both of them happy, and he hoped he’d made them happy, but the possibility of all this backfiring and causing pain to either or both of them was not something he was prepared to face.

He stopped playing with the half empty mug when he heard sounds coming from the door to the other room.

“G’morning,” Nadami said. Still slightly groggy after sleep, but looking lovely. Her long red hair crowned her freckled face, while she tried to blow away wisps that got in her eyes. She smiled at him.

“Hangover gone, yes?” he asked, filling another mug with water for her.

She moved toward the table, and sat down. “I think so. I still didn’t fully wake up.”

“How do you feel?”

She touched his hand with tips of her fingers. He turned his palm up, and tickled her palm. She smiled. “Good,” she replied eventually. “This...” She looked at him. “This will be like that now?”

“If you both wish it.” He so much hoped they did!

“I do.” Fenris’s voice came from the door.

Nadami nodded. “Uhm. Uhm. Uhm.”

Bliss was now in full force. Zevran leaned his chin on his hands with his elbows on the table, and was sure he was smiling like a silly teenager who just got his first girl, looking from one to the other.

“All right, my dear assassin.” Nadami said after taking a few bites of her food. “When will you spill out what you need me for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You avoided the subject for the last few days. But you came searching for me. You found me. You helped me with my task.” She sighed. The matter with Eeyo clearly still bothered her. “There has to be a reason for all of this.”

Fenris looked at him. For a moment the Antivan tried to guess if the other elf was upset, but the Tevinter’s face had a gentle expression of support.

“The reason was… I wanted to find you and tell you that you’re important to me. And that you can count on me.”

She stopped eating, and looked at him. “That’s it?”

“Initially he considered being with you, but he stumbled upon me, and I complicated matters,” Fenris said with a small one-sided grin.

“And you came with him? And he brought you with him to me?” Nadami seemed confused.

Zevran sighed. “It’s complicated. It’s very complicated. I wanted you to be happy. And then I still wanted you to be happy, but differently.” He scratched behind his ear, collecting his thoughts. Then he tried to clarify it for her just like he’d explained to Fenris before. She listened without interrupting. Sometimes her eyes went to Fenris’s face, then back to Zevran’s. “Do you understand any of this?” he asked after he was done with his explanations, which he felt were clumsy and insufficient.

“Did you plan this,” she made a circle with her hand connecting all three of them, “from the beginning?”

“No,” he smiled. “I didn’t assume you would fancy each other so much.” His smile grew wider. “Not that I mind.”

“Soooo, you’d come, say ‘Remember I’m always there for you’, and then go?” He wondered if he couldn’t hear the mocking note in her voice or it really wasn’t there.

“To be honest,” he answered, “I didn’t give much thought what would happen after that.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Fenris said. Zevran raised his eyebrows at the Tevinter. “He has plans,” the other elf clarified. “He just didn’t assume your automatic participation in them.”

The Crow nodded. “Ah, yes, this. Yes, I’ve been working on something for years. But I didn’t come here to ask you to help me. I only wanted you to know you can ask me to help you any time you want.”

“So what are your plans?” Nadami asked.

Zevran was silent for a moment. He had no idea how she’d react to it. He took a breath and replied, “I want to return to the Antivan Crows and take over House Arainai.”

She clearly hadn’t expected that. She blinked at him, looked at Fenris, back at him. “Just like that? Is that even possible?”

“The game had been in motion for years now. There is just one last piece of the puzzle I must complete.”

“Which is?”

“Assassination of the Arainai guildmaster.” Her eyes opened wide. “My former master.”

“Bold!” she commented. Then a sneaky smirk appeared on her lovely face. “Also quite personal, I suppose. He was a jerk to you at every opportunity, as I recall.” Zevran grinned. “Is that were you plan to go now? Antiva?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Have space for one more to tag along?”

Fenris looked at Zevran, whose face was one big smile right now. “Are you sure? We don’t know how safe a daughter of a run-away Crow would be over there.”

“Zevran, I just got you back. After I thought I’d lost your forever, you returned with a lovely bonus.” She gently caressed Fenris’s ear. “There is no way I’ll let you both go to complete some crazy plan without me. I’m going with you and you can’t stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dare to try,” he said. He couldn’t be happier now. It was true that he hadn’t counted on her joining them, he hadn’t wanted to come with any expectations – that would be counter to his intentions – but the possibility of them splitting now, especially after the events of the last night, was painful. Now the issue was moot.

Nadami finished her food. “For the record, Zev,” she said leaning toward him and looking directly into his eyes, “I never needed this assurance, this trip of yours.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I always knew I could count on you.”

His face was a frowny, touched smile. He loved her so much! He looked at Fenris, looking for any sign of discomfort in his face, but found none. The other elf had to feel his attention, because he stopped eating for a moment and looked back at him, then smiled.

Nadami went outside, and Fenris said, “You always loved her. Even if you didn’t fully realise that, you always did.”

Zevran’s forehead furrowed with worry. “Is that a problem?”

Fenris grinned. “No, because I understand why.”

Zevran rose and reached over the table to the other elf’s head. He held it and placed a deep kiss on his lips. “You remember, yes?” he asked, meaning the unspoken ‘I love you’s’ they’d exchanged.

“Yes.”

“Also always.”

“You can’t know that yet.”

“I know. I know.”

“We’ll talk in fifteen years.”

“Great! I will also be able to say ‘I told you so!’” Zevran laughed.

Fenris shook his head, amused. “I’m looking forward to your having the last word.”

The Antivan gave him another kiss, then left the hut in search for Nadami. He wanted to make double triple sure she was all right, too.

He found her washing her hands in water.

“Dami!” he called.

She looked up at him, then ran to him, and hugged him with such an impact of her speed that he fell backwards on – fortunately soft – grass, laughing. She lay on top of him with a huge grin brightening her face.

“Everything all right, yes?” he asked.

She put her head on his chest. “Better than all right,” she replied very quietly. Her eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them off with an irritated move. Then she again leaned over him and looked at his face. Her finger traced the tattooed waves on his face. Then his eyebrows. Then slid down his nose from the bridge to its tip. Stubborn tears started forming again. She tried to blink them, but one fell on his cheek. She wiped it with her finger. “Sorry. I’m… I’m just… falling apart here. This is not a dream, right?”

“If it is, I don’t want to wake up.”

“I love you so so so so so much!” She nestled herself between his arms on his chest again. Then she suddenly sat up with a small frown that made his heart flutter. Did she have doubts after all? “You’re on wet grass. Get up, before you catch a cold!” She stood up, and helped him up.

They returned to the hut to find Fenris playing with a surviving empty bottle of wine. “Shame nothing’s left. We could celebrate,” he said.

“She celebrated prematurely,” Zevran replied. “And _how_!”

Both elves chuckled.

“Hey!” Nadami crossed her arms on her chest, trying to look fierce and angry.


	21. Chapter 21

After another day of being lazy all three of them started growing restless. They decided to head north, and make their way to Antiva.

When they could, they slept in abandoned houses that had been emptied by the Blight, but steering away from the most poisoned and corrupted land. Owners had either ran for their lives or lost them.

“We clean again?” Fenris sighed when they stopped in one.

“You prefer to sleep on ground again?” Nadami asked. “And we listen how you’re not Dalish and don’t like dirt?”

“I prefer to sleep in a bed in a dusty room,” he grumbled.

“You should see his house in Kirkwall,” Zevran interjected. “Ten years, and he didn’t bother to pick up a fallen painting or patch up holes in the roof.”

“Really?”

Fenris shrugged. “I didn’t have to go outside to see whether it was raining.”

She chuckled.

“He could tan in his hallway,” Zevran said.

For the first few days Zevran watched both carefully, looking for any signs of discomfort about the arrangement between them, but still couldn’t find any. They clearly enjoyed each other’s company as much as his, with no tension popping up anywhere, and with time his worries about hurting anyone’s feelings subsided. Now, love-making – that part was glorious. He as much relished participating in it, as watching them. Their beautiful bodies entangled in ecstasy were wonderful to witness, and he adored every moment of it before joining in.

There was so much he could teach them, and he didn’t waste any time before introducing them to new things, as long as both were willing.

 

* * *

 

Zevran’s fingers dipped in his ‘love oil’, then he wriggled them, looking at Nadami. She gave him a suspicious glare with a smirk.

“I already have a hole for this,” she said.

“You have two, no? And one is unused. How sad.”

She looked at Fenris, who tried to keep his face neutral. No pressure. Zevran wriggled his greased fingers again. Waited. She appreciated he didn’t take her lack of rejection for automatic approval.

She was intrigued, she had to admit. “If I say stop, you stop.”

“Always,” he assured her seriously. Then he moved closer and kissed her. While his tongue slid into her mouth and moved on her teeth to then engage with her tongue, his hand slid between her legs, fiddled for a moment with her sensitive spot to increase her arousal, then moved lower. She felt his finger going in, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Then another after a while, then the third one. He seemed to caress the entrance and inside, while his thumb rubbed higher. A moan escaped her throat. Her thighs closed on his hand, so he immediately froze, taking it as a sign of resistance.

“No, no, don’t stop,” he whispered, spreading her legs invitingly. It had been merely a reaction to stimuli.

Zevran sat up and turned her on her knees. Then knelt behind her, and gently touched her other hole with the tip of his cock. She actually moved onto it, so he slowly pushed in deeper. Another moan escaped her, as she felt Zev filling her in a different way than he usually had. She didn’t expect it to feel so good. She lent on her bent elbows, letting throaty sighs out, and fully enjoying the new experience. The Antivan pulled out, and sat next to her. “Come,” he whispered, inviting her to sit on him. She followed his tender directions, drawing lines on the tattoos on his chest with one hand, and leaning on him with the other. A moment later she felt another pair of hands on her waist. Fenris held her gently, then she felt him pushing inside the slightly stretched hole. His body was pressed to hers, and his palms cupped her breasts.

“Is that all right?” he whispered to her ear.

His smell, his voice, his touch, it was overwhelming. The only answer she was capable of was a weak nod and a sigh.

Zevran started moving under her, and Fenris quickly caught the same pace, both sending shivers of ecstasy through her body. She came three times before the elves were done.

“I hope no one hunted at night,” Zevran said, as she slid onto his chest and rested there, exhausted.

“She probably scared away all animals anyway,” Fenris added, placing himself next to Zev. “Has she ever been this loud?”

“Not that I remember,” the Antivan replied.

“Sod off,” she barked, laughing.

 

* * *

 

Fenris felt like in a bubble that was just about to burst. Happy bubbles always burst, some more violently than other. However, this bubble appeared fairly sturdy, and nothing exploded into his face so far. More than that, it looked like it was not going to. No signs of storm coming. Just peace and quiet. Just happy time.

Nadami was very affectionate. While a lot more restrained in public – two villages and one small town – she showered both elves with sweetness when they were alone. She played with their ears, she placed smooches on their cheeks for no other reason than being close enough or passing by, and she was ready to pamper them at any opportunity. Her open and uninhibited show of feelings reminded him a bit of the Fog warriors, who also never submitted themselves to any restrictions when it came to showing affection to one another. Now he was realising how much restrain it had taken her not to show all her love for Zevran before that critical evening. She’d had to burn inside unfulfilled, dealing with her unrequited feelings. When they finally spilled, he was caught in the wave of her emotions. He didn’t feel secondary, though. She didn’t make him feel like the other one to Zevran, and he hoped he didn’t make her feel like that either. The Antivan was the catalyst, but he wasn’t a link. If posed with a choice between them, Fenris knew he wouldn’t be able to make such a decision. Not only because he wouldn’t want to hurt the other one’s feelings, but mostly and mainly because he couldn’t choose. They were equally precious to him.

Could this work? Would this bubble last?

Was he overthinking it? Maybe he should just enjoy the moment, and not expect or await it to end?

 

* * *

 

The thought of returning to Antiva for the final endgame excited Zevran. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes he missed home. Really missed. However, until the matter with the House Arainai wasn’t resolved, he would not be able to stay there. The other Houses weren’t interested in him; he wasn’t their problem or a blemish on their ‘honour’. Sometimes some assassins took contracts on his head, but… well… they weren’t very smart to do that, and none of them had claimed their payment, since their bones were scattered all over Antiva and the Free Marches.

While running his own jobs, he’d collected enough coin to buy a few masters. He’d intimidated the others. It was easy to scare someone with a sudden death, if their comrades were already sniffing roots of flowers.

Now he was finally going back for the final strike – and he was not alone! Somehow, it felt right to have Nadami by his side. Ironic, how he had been her father’s executor, and now was in the man’s shoes – a run-away Crow hunted by his former brothers in arms. And he had been sent on that assignment by no other person than his current, final target. What a small world, no?

He looked at her. She walked in front of him. Her energetic pace made him smile. Had Fenris been right, had he always been in love with her? He cared for her, that was certain. He was aware he sometimes had trouble identifying and sorting his own feelings. What he’d been taught as a child shattered against real world’s experiences, people he’d met, and things that had happened to the people he’d treasured and to himself. So many times he had simply chosen to shut it all down just not to get hurt again. After Rinna he just wanted to die. After Nimloth he never wanted to love again.

What would he do if he lost Fenris and Nadami? Would he manage to survive such a double hit?

He shook his head, frustrated. Why was he even thinking about this? He didn’t know the future. He could die tomorrow. Or they could live happily for the next twenty years. Or his plans could fail and they all would get killed by the Crows. Why think of it?

He looked up at the sky. Gloomy. He missed Antivan sun. He missed Antivan rain. It was warmer and more… cheerful than Fereldan. More colourful. Just… more.

“Coin for your thoughts?” Fenris murmured to him.

“You don’t have any coin,” Zevran pointed out.

“I’d find another way to pay.”

Zevran rubbed his chin, giving the other elf a critical look. “Yes, I suppose I could agree to such an arrangement.”

“So then? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Home. Have you ever had Antivan food?”

“I am not certain. Possible. Kirkwall had a little of everything to offer.”

“There is that great place in Antiva City. Oh, delicious food served by delicious women. Perfectly spiced and ideal curves. You taste once, and you want to come back for more.”

“I’m not sure you’re talking about food or women,” Fenris admitted.

Zevran laughed. “Is there really a difference?” He looked forward at Nadami, who still walked in front of them. “Just look at this fantastic dish. Delightful colours, vibrant and lively, appetising smell, enticing taste. You just can’t have enough, no?”

“Do you ever stop thinking about sex and think about other things?”

“No and yes. I can multitask, ha ha!”

“So what else are you thinking about right now, beside the ‘dish’ in front of you?”

Zevran gave him a sly grin. “The dessert, naturally. It’s covered with complicated patterns of sweet white cream, and there are two priceless green jewels I like admiring. Best pastry you can get in all of Tevinter Imperium.”

Fenris rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible!”

The Antivan inclined his head to a side and fluttered his eyelashes at the other elf. “Punish me!”

“Impossible!” the Tevinter growled but his wide smile revealed his true feelings.

 

* * *

 

Most of their journey was uneventful. Zevran and Nadami had enough coin to get all three of them on a ship to get to the Free Marches. Most of the trip was quite rough for her. Zevran mercilessly mocked her for being a land rat, but he also patiently rubbed her back when another meal of hers landed overboard.

“Oh, sweet Maker,” Nadami sighed when they finally walked on ground.

“Not fond of sea travel?” Fenris asked her.

“No, it’s not that.” She fanned herself. “It’s so hot here!”

Both Fenris and Zevran looked at each other. “Hot?” the Antivan asked, raising his eyebrows. “You mean ‘finally not freezing’, no?”

“How can you stand this heat?” She took off her jacket.

“Ah, lovely views,” Zevran grinned, ogled her exposed shoulders, wriggled his eyebrows at Fenris, picked up his backpack and headed off.


	22. Chapter 22

“We have almost perfect timing.” Zevran sat down on the bed in the room they had rented in the harbour. The smell of fresh fish coming through the window made him hungry.

“What did you learn?” Fenris asked him. He had been reading when the Antivan returned, but now put the book away.

“House Arainai is in complete chaos. The guildmaster was unable to replace dead master assassins. His contracts failed.” Zevran grinned. He’d made sure they would fail. “He has no firepower, and no one to lean on.”

“What about the other guildmasters?” Nadami asked.

“There are still a couple of unknown factors, but we need to push through. There is a wonderful opportunity soon, and I do not intend to not take advantage of it.” He paused for a moment, then resumed. “They have a grand meeting planned in nine days.”

“What’s a grand meeting?” the girl asked.

“All seven guildmasters, their master assassins, and some distinguished assassins from their Houses gather to discuss important matters. I do not know the reason of this one – for all we know they could try to dismantle Arainai, now that it’s so weak, or quite the opposite to keep the balance intact – but it’s a great chance to take over.”

“We arrived to kill the guildmaster of that House,” Fenris said. “We change our plans?”

“No, not at all,” Zevran shook his head. Then he proceeded to explain in detail his new plan. “We have eight days to learn all there is about the guildmaster’s defences. Then we form a plan to eliminate him,” he finished.

The other two looked at each other, then at him.

Nadami smiled. “Damn, you’re either crazy or bold.”

“Both,” Fenris added.

“You’re with me, yes?”

“Of course,” she nodded.

“Naturally,” he smiled.

Zevran stood up. “Come, we have much to do!” He felt positively filled with new energy.

 

* * *

 

Zevran waited for the bell, crouched on the thick wall, tense with anticipation. When the clock finally sounded, he pulled the hood onto his head to hide his blond hair. The hood had a crow skull-like visor, additionally shading his eyes: it should protect them from reflecting lights, thus making him even more of a dark figure in darkness. He smiled at the thought of Nadami and Fenris doing the same to hide their ginger and white hair respectively.

A moment later the warm smile was replaced by an impish smirk. “Let’s dance,” he mumbled to himself, and jumped off the wall.

Barely visible in the darkness of the night, he silently moved toward the main gate. He soundlessly sneaked behind the guard on the right side of the door. With a swift move he sliced his throat open, making it impossible for him to warn anyone before dying. He grabbed the falling body to make sure it wouldn’t thump on the hard pavement.

He glanced at Fenris, who simultaneously had taken care of the other guard. They exchanged looks, then each went his way: Zevran returned to his side of the house, while Fenris went to his. Their task was to go around, meet on the other side, while picking up every guard and assassin on their way. Nadami was hopping on roofs to enter the house from its garret and remove everyone upstairs before proceeding to the main room.

While near windows, Zevran could hear loud voices coming from inside. There was some sort of argument in progress, which was convenient. The house’s occupants were too busy to notice something going on. Hopefully, with a pinch of luck – and luck liked Zevran all his life – it’d be much too late for them by the time they realised how bad things were for them.

A side door opened and someone left. Zevran tensed, ready to silence another guard, but the figure was small and thin. An elven woman. A Crow or a servant? He watched her, as she emptied a bowl into a gully that partially crossed the garden. A servant, then. He melted with the shadow, hoping she wouldn’t spot him. If she did, he’d have no choice but to kill her, and it wasn’t something he wanted to do.

She returned to the house, pulling the door behind her to close, but he put his foot in it, preventing complete shutting. Risky, if she noticed, but worth the try.

The luck was still with him. Her steps faded with distance, and he peeked inside through the small gap between the door and its frame. No one stood near it on the opposite side. He couldn’t be sure there was no one on the other side, but this opportunity of silently getting inside was too great to ignore it. He hoped Fenris would manage to go on alone and not wait too long after Zevran wouldn’t meet him at the agreed place.

He slowly opened the door and went inside. Judging by the delicious smell, the corridor on the right led to the kitchen. Presumably where the servant had gone. There were two more doors: one in front and one on the left. He had no idea where the front door led, but the sounds from the left one clearly indicated the main room where everybody was. Too early to get in there.

He went to the door in front of him, put his ear to it and listened. Faint voices. Occasional soft knocking on something. After a while he pictured two men playing chess. A guard room?

He knocked on the door. The voices silenced, then shifting and closing steps. He pressed himself flat to the wall and waited. A tall figure of a man opened the door but before he had time to register Zevran’s presence, a dagger swiftly opened his throat and essentially rendered him mute before his subsequent death. Zev rolled into the room, trying to get his bearings while remaining a movable, hard to hit target. There were two more men inside. One not fully dressed, and one at a small table with a chessboard. The latter got a knife thrown into his eye, while the other hands on his throat before the knife reached its target. He knew he couldn’t overwhelm a stronger human man, so he had to incapacitate him quickly before the guard’s surprise and shock subsided. A kick in the groin prolonged the defencelessness, while opening his neck finished the job.

Zevran didn’t waste time on contemplating the deep feeling of satisfaction he felt with each kill. The smirk hadn’t disappeared from his face, and anyone who’d see him now would think he had the best time of his life.

He pulled the first guard into the room, then left it, closing the door behind him. Hopefully no one would enter it any time soon to find three bodies and raise an alarm.

With that done, he knew there wasn’t much left to do, unless he wanted to do a suicide solo run into a room full of arguing assassins, so he left the house the same way he’d gotten in and headed for the meeting spot with Fenris.

To his surprise, the other elf wasn’t there yet. He wondered if he’d also found an opportunity that delayed him. While the possibility of failure wasn’t completely out of the question, Zevran had trust in Fen’s abilities. He heard steps. Just in case, he hid in a shadow and waited. The steps seemed too loud for someone who was supposed to sneak and normally ran around barefoot, and soon it turned out to be a guard on a patrol. A lanky figure, visible against the moonshine from Zevran’s position, appeared behind the guard. It glowed, and the light ‘from nowhere’ behind the man made him turn to see what it was. Fenris’s glowy hand in the guard’s chest immediately silenced and killed him.

“Show off,” Zevran whispered when the other elf was close enough, smiling at the beautiful view of his lover’s murderous abilities.

“I took four on the way here,” Fenris informed him.

“I took three in the guard room. There’s some kind of argument going on in the main room. Many people. I reckon they discuss something related to tomorrow’s gathering.”

“Did you hear what it’s about?”

“No,” Zev shook his head, frowning. “But surprise is something we definitely need now. Remember, we are raiding trained murderers. Resistance is expected and the factor of surprise won’t help us as much as with regular wimps.”

Fenris observed Zevran for a long moment.

“What?” the Antivan asked.

“I’ve never seen you so serious before.”

The smirk returned to Zevran’s face. “My apologies, mi amor. It won’t happen again.”

Fenris snorted amused.

Pebbles rolled down the roof and landed near them. It was the agreed signal from Nadami to start.

“Let’s use the side door,” Zevran said. They’d agreed to get in through the back door that led directly to the kitchen, but the side door the Antivan had found was a safer option. They already knew the kitchen wasn’t empty.

They stopped before the door to the main room.

“Do me a favour, bello,” Zevran said. “Look less handsome. It’s distracting.”

“You first,” Fenris replied.

They smiled at each other, then Fenris reached for his long sword; Zevran opened the door, rolled in, and chaos began!

From the corner of his eye, while on his way directly to his main target, the Antivan saw Fenris swipe his weapon with a roar and take down three men at once. Another sweep, and more fell. He cut through them like a farmer through his crop.

“Zevran!” the head of House Arainai shouted, recognising the intruder. His facial expression was shaped by pure fury. “Time to die, you whore-son!”

“Indeed! For you, ha ha!”

A duel wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he was not going to back out now. Not after years of waiting for it. Not after years on the run. This man had to die and he was just about to. For Rinna. For Taliesen.

His nemesis drew his sword, and Zevran knew that a straight up fight was not something he could win. But straight up fight wasn’t something he’d mastered in. He circled around the master, trying to gain the best angle, then threw a dagger into his opponent’s right shoulder, which caused him to immediately drop the sword; the elf didn’t know whether due to surprise of pain or the hit really being that effective in cutting the right muscles, but it didn’t matter. The human was leaning forward to reach for his weapon on the floor with his other hand, when Zevran’s knee landed on his face and broke his nose. The human stumbled back, putting his hands to his face, and wincing at the pain coming from his injured shoulder. In swift, elegant, almost dancing moves Zevran ran behind him, kicked the back on his knees to make him kneel, grabbed his head, and pulled it back exposing his throat. From the corner of his eye he noticed someone rushing to his boss’s rescue but a red-headed figure effectively stopped him on his way. Zevran looked into his former master’s eyes. The hatred he saw in them had to mirror his own. He already won, and the other man knew that; he’d stopped resisting, as he was fully aware there was no way out of it, unless someone backstabbed Zevran this very moment. Without a word, the Antivan put his knife to the soft tissue of the unprotected neck, and then slowly and methodically slid it, sinking it deeper in the flesh.

It felt good. He had no idea it would feel this good. He relished every moment of watching this man’s eyes darken as life faded in them. For a minute, nothing else existed. The moment he had waited for some many years, he had planned meticulously so long ago, had come, and it felt even better than he’d expected.

Finally he dropped the lump body and looked around at the carnage his lovers left while he was busy with his archenemy. He looked at both of them to see whether either was wounded, but they seemed fine beside blood smears and perhaps small injuries. Nadami went to him and kissed him.

“Let’s check the rest of the house,” Fenris said.

He was right. There could be more in other rooms. Nadami was supposed to clear the first floor but double checking all rooms wouldn’t hurt.

They spread. Zevran went upstairs. Still careful and quiet, even though the sounds of the fight had to warn whoever might linger up here, he checked each room. He found something that looked like a bathroom or perhaps a laundry room. He found a room full of various objects that had very little common with each other. Most of them cheap and useless. He wouldn’t even care to guess what it meant. He also found a bedroom. After checking all rooms and making sure they were empty, he returned to the bedroom. Luxurious, with a giant bed and vases of flowers on almost all surfaces: shelves, a small side table, anywhere something could be put on.

Nadami appeared on the stairs, coming from upstairs – the garret – and approached him. “Wow!” she said, looking into the room.

Zevran ran to the bed and jumped on it, landing on his back and spreading his arms wide. “Look! It’s big enough for three, no?!” he exclaimed, laughing.

Fenris appeared in the doorway. “No assassins in shadows,” he said. “Well, not beside you two,” he added, grinning.

Zevran leaned on his elbows. “The final showdown tomorrow,” he said.

“But before that…” Nadami went to him, crawled on the bed, and sat on his hips. “Shouldn’t we test the bed?”

Her cheeks were still flushed, and Zevran started suspecting it wasn’t just the heat of the fight that kept her freckles dark.

“Antivans,” Fenris shook his head. “Full blooded, half blooded, doesn’t matter. Horny all the time.” He disappeared.

“Fenris!” the other elf called him. Was he annoyed?

“Have fun!” came the answer from the corridor, and clearly said by a smiling face. “I’m going to find some wine!”

Zevran, relieved the other elf wasn’t truly upset, looked at Nadami who was already undoing his trousers. “Killing turns you on, no?”

“You turn me on.”

“Me killing turns you on?”

“I can settle for that,” she agreed, exposing his hips. “What turned you on?” she asked him, seeing he was completely ready for whatever she wanted.

He just grinned. She took off her own trousers, and sat on him. As they kissed, he felt it was indeed an appropriate way to celebrate the victory. Her hot in touch, flushed skin aroused him even more. She slid onto him, kissing his neck and playing with his ears. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his body. Her clothes, identical to his, were stained with blood, and leaves she had torn off trees while jumping on roofs, but the lack of cleanliness didn’t bother him. If anything, the assassin feel it gave her made her even more alluring. Their moves faster and their moaning louder, the smell of the flowers overwhelming, they finished almost simultaneously. Zevran stretched on the bed, relaxed, then noticed Fenris standing in the door, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed.

“If you two are done, I found a terrified servant in the kitchen. I promised her we won’t kill her.”

They both dressed up, and all three went to the kitchen.

The elven girl Zevran had seen before sat at the big table in the middle of the spacious kitchen. She stood up as they entered. She was clearly scared. She drew her hands to her chest, and waited.

“You work here?” Zevran asked her. She only nodded. “What do you do?”

“I cook and clean. And buy groceries. And take care of the garden and flowers.”

“All alone?” Fenris asked.

She opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated. “Just tell the truth,” Zevran prompted gently.

“Sometimes my younger brother helps me,” she admitted.

The Antivan noticed something on her face. He approached her, making her cower even more, gently took her chin and raised her head, turning it slightly to a side. A healing bruise on her jawline.

“He did this?” he asked.

“I… salted too much.”

He let go off her chin. “How much did he pay you?”

“Five copper per week,” she answered quietly.

Fenris snorted loudly, which startled her. “He’s not angry with you,” Zevran assured her. “I’ll pay you more, if you stay. This house is now mine.”

Her eyes opened wider, and she seemed to relax a bit.

Fenris left the kitchen, but was fairly quickly back. He put a small pouch on the table in front of the servant. By the sound of it, it contained coin. Zevran gave Fenris an asking look.

“From a pocket of your former boss,” the tall elf explained. He looked at the girl. “The house needs cleaning up, but don’t do it yourself. Hire people. Pay them, then keep what’s left for yourself.”

“What is your name?” the Antivan asked her.

“Shannie.”

“Will you stay and work for me, Shannie?”

She watched him with eyes wide open, then just nodded. She looked at the pouch, then at Fenris. “When do you want me to start cleaning, master?”

“Don’t call me ‘master’,” the elf said through his teeth. “My name is Fenris,” he added calmer. She nodded again. “Whenever you think it’s time,” he answered her question.

“Go home,” Zevran said. “It’s safer for you if the house stays empty for the night. Do you have a home to go to?” he asked. For all he knew, she could be living here.

“I can go to my family.”

“Do that. Return tomorrow night. I’m we are here, come in. If not, never come back.”

“I understand.”

He hoped she really did. The last thing he wanted was her getting killed if the final piece of his endgame failed and all three of them ended up corpses.

“Go,” he gently prompted her, handing her the pouch. She shyly took it, then left through the kitchen door.

“And if we never see her again?” Nadami asked.

“Then we’ll have to hire someone new. I’d rather keep her.” Zevran looked around. “The house is clean, no?”

“The bedroom full of flowers.” Nadami nodded, agreeing.

“I found wine!” Fenris shouted, standing by a cabinet he’d just opened.

“Let’s go home. We have a big day tomorrow,” Zevran said, heading for the kitchen exit.

Fenris took two bottles of wine, and followed the other elf with Nadami at his heel.


	23. Chapter 23

They walked the corridor with confidence Nadami didn’t feel. Zevran led, with Fenris hunching behind him protectively. She was last, making sure no one tried to ambush them. There were two guards at the door. The hand of one on the left went to his weapon, but the other one smiled.

“Black Shadow,” he said, then quickly fetched his own weapon and sank in his co-guard’s throat. “You may enter,” he added, bowing to Zevran. Nadami knew some Crows considered the elf a hero, because he had helped to defeat the Fifth Blight by the Hero of Ferelden’s side, but she never thought that respect was so high.

The guard opened the door for them, and they entered a massive room. Nadami looked around. The place was divided to seven sections like a pie, each starting its narrower point around the round floor in the middle with a huge table, at which sat several people. More were grouped behind them widening the triangular shape. Those closer to the table had seats, the farther away ones stood. At one of the tables there was no one.

The room was in chaos. Most turmoil came from behind the empty table, where everybody was screaming one over another. It looked like they were just about to start a fight. Zevran stood in the middle, and watched them, with the other two at his side. As his presence was being slowly registered by shouting and arguing people, the room grew quieter as the minutes passed.

While Zevran’s attention was at the crowd behind the empty table, Fenris kept his eye on the right side of the room, while Nadami observed the left. They were not to be flanked. Such gatherings had strict rules and one of them was ‘no blood spilled on the floor of the meeting’, but they couldn’t be too careful.

Each section – Nadami knew each represented a house, with the guildmaster and master assassins at the table and near it – silenced and waited for what was going to happen; the empty one being the last.

“Mmm, I don’t think this is good,” Zevran whispered, then slightly nodded toward a man standing behind one of the tables. Nadami was sure he had been seated when they entered, but now stood. He was in the middle of the table, surrounded by four people, two on each side. His face was painted with shock and surprise, but he didn’t appear to be angry.

“I take it not one of your allies,” Fenris whispered back.

“No. I think he’s looking at you, Nadami,” he added.

That seemed to be a correct assessment. He did look vaguely familiar to her, but how could he? She’d never been to Antiva before. People like him didn’t leave the country.

“You!” someone roared, bringing their attention back to the empty table guild. He pointed his finger at Zevran. “You!”

The elf bowed. “At your service.” He tapped his chin, as if thinking deeply. “To think of it, I actually came here to claim your service.”

“How dare you, traitor!” another one shouted.

“Quite bold of me, no?” Zevran smirked. Nadami knew him well enough to sense he enjoyed the moment.

Someone seemed to push through the crowd. “Let me get it clear,” he said. A tall, burly human. “You fail the task of killing your target, you spend years in hiding like a coward you are, and now you’re back to… claim something? You’re one funny elf.”

“I do my best, ha ha! And I prefer to think of myself as someone who joined a good cause, helped to stop the Blight, and then picked you out one by one, and bested you in scheming? This raises my value, no?”

Nadami’s attention shifted between her task of keeping an eye on her side of the room, on Zevran, and on the strange assassin that had taken interest in her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, although he had sat down.

A murmur enveloped the room. Clearly, Zevran had just made a good argument. But the burly man was not done, yet. “This is all very nice, but you still failed at your task.”

“Yes, well, this should be quite understandable. After all, no one was cocky enough to accept it but me, because everyone else knew it was impossible to complete it. They were Grey Wardens, after all.”

“That is your defence? ‘I was too stupid to see I accepted impossible’? Pathetic!”

Zevran’s smirk disappeared. He squinted his eyes, and his facial expression shifted into the assassin mode. Time for jokes was over. “Then come here and remove me from the room,” he challenged the man.

The human rushed toward him, but was stopped by loud outrage that spilled all over the room. Rules were rules. No murder on the floor of the guild meeting. Nadami was quite impressed they in fact stuck to it.

The human looked around. “He deserves nothing less!” he shouted. “He broke all the rules. He has no right be even be here!”

“He has every right to be here!” someone countered.

“He’s one of ours,” Zevran whispered.

Ah, an ally’s support. The elf had secured backing of three Houses. Apparently, one of them was now fulfilling their deal.

“I disagree,” the human was not giving up. He moved quickly toward Zevran, fetching a knife from his belt, but was intercepted by Fenris, whose glow completely silenced and froze the room. The tall elf grabbed the human by his throat, raised him above the ground, and then ripped the trachea off in one swift move. He stood with his hand stretched, still holding bloody pieces of the man’s flesh, while the rest of his victim twitched on the floor in a growing pool of blood in his final moment.

“There,” Zevran said cheerfully. “We shall keep it civil from now on, yes? Someone needs to enforce the rules, yes?” He nodded at Fenris, who stopped glowing, and returned to his spot behind Zevran’s right shoulder.

The silence was dispersed by murmur and glances thrown at Fenris. Nadami felt his presence had been largely dismissed as ‘another elf’, even in spite of his unusual look, but tearing a man to pieces barehanded had to draw attention of people whose sole skill was the art of murder. She stole a glance at the man who’d been interested in her; he was now slightly smiling.

“What do you want, elf?” an older human from the guildmasterless house asked.

“House Arainai.”

The murmur got louder. Another human sneered. “You must be joking!”

“I challenge anyone’s claim for the title of the guildmaster.”

“I’m no fighting no elf!” another human barked. Nadami guessed he was to become one, if he got approved during this very meeting. Or perhaps one of possible candidates.

“You want to go by the rules, Zevran,” the elder said. Nadami was quite impressed the man knew her lover’s name. After a moment she realised that probably most of the Crows did; Zev had made a name for himself among them, whether in a positive way or not. “I can appreciate that. Sadly, you’re not prepared.” The elf inclined his head with a question. “You need a second. And your second must also be a Crow.”

They knew it was coming, and their reply was sketchy, but the best they could do under the circumstances. Nadami hoped she looked fierce and serious, when she stepped forward.

“I am the daughter of Fabio Cabrero.” Not really a Crow. They had no idea if that’d be accepted, and the reaction of most of the room was clear. Being a daughter of a Crow didn’t make one a Crow. She also had no idea if her own surname was like Zevran’s – the name given by the House – or her father’s real name. It could have absolutely no meaning here… or worse, sound like a baseless claim. The former could get her even killed.

The elder crossed his arms on his chest. “Of what house?” he asked, as if trying to drive the point in.

The mysterious, smiling man rose at his table. “Of the House Cabrero, obviously,” he said. One of his master assassins tried to whisper something to him in protest with an outrage painted on his face, but the man silenced him with one glance. “House Cabrero also will officially throw support behind Zevran’s claim.”

The uproar drowned all thoughts Nadami had: flashbacks to her childhood. There was something in this man’s voice, something familiar. She was certain she had never met him before, but there was something she couldn’t put her finger on.

Apparently, the official declaration of one drew the other three Zevran had managed to get on his side – either by bribery or intimidation or a debt – to acknowledge their support.

“I think there will be no duelling today,” Zev mumbled to his friends. Four out of seven houses were behind him. One was dysfunctional without a leader, leaving only two that didn’t have power to stop it.

“I will not accept a knife-ear as our guildmaster!” another human shouted, shaking his fist.

“As you wish,” Zevran growled, fetched his dagger, and threw it at the man before anyone realised what was happening. It landed exactly where the elf wanted: in the man’s eye. Nadami knew Zev liked this little trick. He was always a show off. “Knife-eye for you then, yes?”

A few amused snorts around, probably mostly from elves.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, you’re breaking the rules.” The elder man made a gesture, inviting Zevran behind the table. “If only your master could see you now,” he said.

“He’d be the loudest against me, I assure you, master,” Zevran replied politely, walking toward the offered chair. “But I took care of that last night.” It was the first time the elf admitted that he was the one who’d taken down any of the assassinated masters. Nadami knew Zev had been mistreated by that man, and that he had been an indirect reason why the elf wanted to leave the Crows.

Neither she nor Fenris moved, though. They wanted to keep an eye on whoever was behind Zevran’s back. Her fingers dangled near her knives, while her eyes carefully studied the crowd. She was sure the Tevinter was doing the same.

But the meeting seemed to quiet down from the need to fight, and shifted toward talking. Both Nadami and Fenris withdrew from the middle of the room, but positioned themselves in place where they could keep a watchful eye on Zevran’s safety. House Arainai members talked one over another, argued, and seemed to disagree more than agree, but the final consensus was that having Zevran, the famous Black Shadow who had been impossible to catch, the Crow who had helped the Hero of Ferelden (not forgetting that he had also been her lover) to stop the Archdemon as their guildmaster would raise the House’s prestige. And prestige was something that the Arainai needed desperately. She also noticed that few elves present all supported him.

The matter seemed to be settled. With no objections from the other Houses, Zevran Arainai was a full-time Crow again.

Nadami was proud of him. It had taken him years of planning, or changing those plans due to new circumstances, of single-handedly fulfilling his plans to be here now. From an orphan bought for three sovereigns to a guildmaster!

The head of the House Cabrero approached her. She suspected now her father had been one of them. The name she had – now she knew for certain it was a House name, like Zevran’s – pointed to that. Was that it was all about? But why would he be so interested in her in such a positive way? To kill her to remove the last blemish of the runaway Crow, that she could understand. But this?

From the corner of her eye she noticed Fenris coming closer. He wanted to make sure she would not be harmed.

The man stopped and looked at her. For a long while he didn’t say anything, which stretched to almost amusing silence.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked eventually.

“Forgive me,” he said very quietly. “You just… You’re a spitting image of your father. Except the eyes. They must be your mother’s.”

“You knew him.” It was a statement, not a question. The man was clearly old enough to be acquainted with her parent.

“He was my brother.”

The voice… it reminded her of her father’s! So did the face. That’s why he looked familiar even though she’d never met him before!

She didn’t know what to say. She looked at Fenris, but his concentration did not soften. He of all people knew the best that family didn’t mean safety and lack of threat.

“I understand you must digest it,” the man – uncle? – said. “So do I, to be honest. I had no idea he had a child.” He smiled. “But I am glad he left a legacy. Find me later, please. And also tell Zevran I must talk to him; it’s important.”

“I’ll tell him,” she replied.

He eyed Fenris, then returned to his guild’s table.

“Your lover the leader of one guild, your uncle of another,” Fenris said. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not even a Crow.”

“I think he sees you as one. And after his support, so does everyone else.”

She looked at him. “This is so surreal.”


	24. Chapter 24

The things finally calmed down, and slowly the room emptied. Only the elder Arainai, Zevran, Nadami, and Fenris remained. And the Cabrero uncle. The elder man – Fenris didn’t know his name – whispered something to Zevran’s ear. The Antivan shook his head, and the human left. Cabrero approached the elf, and with a gesture invited him to sit down at the table. They sat, Nadami joined them, while Fenris stood aside, watching.

“I will get straight to the point,” the human started. “My name is Turo, and you know my position within the Antivan Crows structure.” Zevran nodded. “In turn, I know that you haven’t been anywhere near the higher echelons of the Crows structure, and spent most of your life being away.” He paused. “I don’t mean this as an insult, just presenting the facts as they are. You have no experience, no knowledge how things work on this side of contracts, no idea of the internal politics.” Zevran leant back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest with a defiant expression. “You could be over your head.” Zevran’s left eyebrow raised. “I have an offer for you, should you be open to accepting it.”

The elf was silent for a moment, then asked, “You think I randomly killed Crow assassins, randomly chose the order, randomly selected whom to bribe, and whom to eliminate, and just got here by luck rather than careful planning?”

Turo pursed his lips, considering the question. “Not that randomly, no. However, certain matters never leave this room.”

“I’m sure. But if you think that I have no idea what is going on, you are mistaken.”

“Zevran, I… my intent isn’t to offend or undermine you. On the contrary, your… dismantling House Arainai has shaken the balance of the Crows. I don’t like that.” He raised his hand, seeing the elf wanted to say something. “Let me finish. I have nothing against you. Everything against your actions, but that is the past. It’s not personal. You are in charge here now. That means it’s your responsibility to restore the balance. I offer my advice. On anything you need. Current politics, current tractions between guildmasters, current trouble we don’t share with anyone.” He grinned. “One of those troubles has just resolved itself, but many remain.”

“Why?” Nadami asked.

Fenris wondered the same. The man had thrown his support behind Zevran’s claim. It couldn’t be only because of her presence.

“The Crows are Antiva. We’re the only thing that keeps enemies at bay. We rule this country. If we’re weak, Antiva is weak, and I don’t want to see that. I want… we all need the Antivan Crows to be strong, and frankly, one lone elf dismantling us from inside out was not a good thing for our reputation. Time to restore the glory and remove the blemish of falling victim to such…” He looked at Zevran. “Nothing personal,” he assured him again. Then looked at Nadami. “In addition, you are on his side and by his side. Call me a sentimental old fool, but it also means something to me.”

The elf watched him without saying a word for a very long while. “Helping me rebuild House Arainai is helping the Antivan Crows regain their glory,” he summarised eventually.

“Yes,” Turo nodded. “Having the man who helped defeat the Fifth Blight at the helm on one of the houses also contributes to that.” The human smiled again. “I dismissed your threat for too long, Zevran. I didn’t think for years you could touch us, and after you proved me wrong, I tried to entrench myself sufficiently not to fall victim to you. Take my offer or not. Up to you.” He looked at Nadami again. “I suppose you stay with him.”

“I am not a Crow. I don’t think I owe you anything or that you own me.”

“Fair enough.” For a moment, he looked from one to another, probably trying to guess if they were lovers. Then he rose. “Thiago will probably be a good advisor, too.” Fenris had no idea who that could be, but his best guess was the elder man. “Take a good care of him. And try to secure a good contract, even if you’d have to complete it yourself. You need to rebuild the reputation you have destroyed yourself.”

“Wouldn’t a part of it be restored by his mere presence?” Nadami asked. “Taking all those assassins down contributed to his own reputation, so he now shares with the House.”

“Perhaps,” Turo conceded. “You could have a few regulars who may stick with you, but that could not be enough. You left a lot of political destruction in your wake, Zevran.”

“That was the point,” the elf grinned.

“I hope you plan of fixing it is as effective.” He nodded his farewell to the elf, to Nadami, then looked at Fenris for a moment, and also nodded to him. He left the room.

It felt strange. Up until now the Tevinter didn’t think how he appeared to the others. Now, it struck him that he was… the bodyguard. Zevran’s personal protector. He felt conflicted. That role had been forced upon him years ago, and he fulfilled it, because he had no other choice, because in his mind there was nothing else, because it hadn’t occurred to him to do – be – anything else. Danarius had made him one.

But here, now, it was a choice. It was a role he naturally filled and was perfectly fit for. He could leave any moment, if he wanted to. He could leave this behind, and never return. He could refuse to do it. No one would stop him… well, beside two broken hearts, but what to do with his life was still his own choice.

It felt dirty. Contaminated. He wanted to protect Zevran, he wanted to keep his love safe, he wanted to be by his side, and kill all his enemies, and yet – his past made it feel polluted, unclean, disgusting.

“Coin for your thoughts,” the Antivan’s handsome tan face with a naughty smirk filled Fenris’s field of vision.

Fenris smiled. Suddenly, this awful feeling of defilement shrank significantly. What could be dirty about protecting this ray of sunshine that brightened each of his days? He grabbed Zevran’s face and kissed him.

“Let’s go home,” Nadami said. “And I mean that nice house with flowers, not the smelly hole we stayed in.”

“Smelly hole?” Zevran asked with fake indignation.

“Sweet Maker, you know it stinks there!”

“Ah, the finest Antivan leather! That’s why I chose that ‘hole’.”

“Ewwwww! You did it on purpose?! Did you hear it, Fenfen? He did that on purpose!”

They bickered humorously, headed for the exit, with Fenris at their heels, listening amused to their arguing.

 

* * *

 

Fenris wondered if the house had gotten looted after its owner’s death, which couldn’t had gone unnoticed, but it was as they had left it.

After checking if there weren’t any uninvited guests lingering, they lit candles for some light in the darkening evening, and removed the bodies from inside. They dumped them all in the garden for the time being, then returned to the main room. Nadami took off most of her armour, mumbling something about living inside a fireplace, while Fenris went to the kitchen to fetch more wine.

“I am a professional squatter of houses, of which previous owners I killed,” he announced. The other two laughed. “You have a plan, don’t you?” he asked, putting two bottles on the table in front of Zevran.

“Vaguely,” the Antivan replied. “Some things developed in an unexpected way.”

“Like having support of one of the currently strongest houses?” Nadami asked.

“A very iffy support.”

“This was weird, wasn’t it?” she said. “It’s not just me, right?”

Fenris only shook his head, while Zevran said, “No. I am not certain how you play into it, but sentiment and deep love for a niece he didn’t know he had is not an argument I buy. I have more faith in his political stability reasoning.”

“Are the Crows really that important?” Fenris asked.

“The current ruler is up there on the top only because none of us assassinated him. Because no one paid to remove him.” Fenris noticed how the Crows became ‘us’ for Zevran now.

“In theory, would it be possible for a Crow to become the king?” the Tevinter asked.

“Once it almost happened.”

Fenris’s eyebrows went up. “Heh.”

“Masters.” Shannie was in the door to the kitchen.

“Welcome back!” Zevran raised a glass of wine toward her.

She smiled. “I will arrange to remove the… bodies from the garden tomorrow morning.”

“That would be nice.”

“A meal for three?”

“Even nicer!”

She disappeared in the dark corridor. Soon they could smell cooking food’s odour coming from the kitchen. Fenris realised he was quite hungry. By the time the girl returned with plates, he was almost ready to eat the table.

The dish was unknown to Fenris, but looked and smelled fantastic. He started eating, and from the corner of his eye could see Zevran devouring his, while Nadami slowing down.

“Something wrong?” he asked her.

“I… don’t know,” she replied uncertainly. “It’s spicy.”

Both elves glanced at each other. The dish was not spicy at all. The Tevinter looked at Shannie. “What spices are in it?”

The girl looked a bit startled. “Salt,” she replied. “A little pepper. Herbs.”

Zevran and Fenris looked at each other again. Then the Antivan shrugged. “Ignore her. She’s from Ferelden. They eat mud food there.”

“Hey!” Nadami exclaimed.

“Mud food!” Zevran repeated slowly leaning toward her.

Shannie bit her lips. Fenris knew what it meant. “Laugh,” he told her. “You’re very much allowed to, and it was funny.”

She giggled. “Is there anything else you need?”

Zevran shook his head. “No.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said, and left. Fenris could see she covered her mouth and still laughed on her way out.

The Antivan raised his glass. “To good food that is not mud, to good wine, to good life with my beautiful people.” Nadami raised hers, Fenris – since he hadn’t bothered with a glass – the whole bottle, and they drank to that.


	25. Chapter 25

Fenris was both impressed by the library the former owner of the house collected, and annoyed that most of it was in Antivan. While the language had similarities with Tevene, and he was catching it quite quickly, it impeded his reading. He was going through the books’ backs, reading titles, and hoping to find something in a non-local language.

He turned toward the door, when he heard soft steps. Nadami. She smiled at him.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“Do you?” he walked toward her.

She handed him a small object. He took it; it turned out to be a ring. After a short moment he realised it was a Tevinter ring. Its origin was quite clear by its design and carvings.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he asked annoyed.

“I…” She seemed surprised by his reaction. “I thought you might like it.” She frowned with worry.

“Why? Because it’s something from the Imperium? Do you think I want to collect things that remind me who I was? Here, look, a former Tevinter slave!” He spread his arms in a mocking gesture.

“Never mind then,” she said angrily, grabbed the ring from his palm and threw it out of the window. Then she turned away and walked out of the room. He was sure he could see tears in her eyes.

“ _Podex_ ,” he mumbled to himself, frustrated. And he was an arsehole indeed, for being such an ungrateful jerk to her. She had given him a present, and he yelled at her.

He ran outside, and started searching for the ring under the window she had thrown it out from. Fortunately, that window looked out onto their garden, so he wasn’t crawling on a street among strangers, and no one could pick it up and take it. He started from the most possible place not too far from the window. The path was clear, so he knelt and carefully checked grass around it.

About an hour later his frustration was bubbling. He had torn a lot of grass out by now, and kept tearing through it with angry pulls. After failing to find the ring in the most probable location, he decided to be more methodical about it. He started from the wall, then moved away, making bigger sweeps. Still no ring. He was already far from the house and almost at the flower rows. The ring couldn’t have fallen this far away.

But it could roll. Or bounce, and be further still.

“Mast– Fenris.” Shannie’s voice behind him. He turned and looked at her. “What are you doing?” She looked at a few flowers he’d stepped on. He tried to be careful, but apparently he had destroyed some.

“My apologies.” He returned to his search.

“Are you looking for something?”

“Yes.”

“May I help you?”

“No, that’s all right.”

“It’s going to be dark soon.”

“I’ll use a candle, if necessary.”

“I could help. Let me help.”

“Start from that side over there,” he pointed to the end of the row. “We’ll meet in the middle.” She nodded. “It’s a ring.”

He moved to the other end of the row and checked under every leaf, each grain of soil.

Something shone in sunset. It reflected reddish light, drawing his attention. He reached for it, and it was the ring!

“Shannie, I found it.”

She rose. “Good.”

He also stood up. “I’m sorry about the flowers.”

“They’ll grow back,” she replied, smiled, and walked away.

He returned home, went back to the library, lit a candle, and sat down at the table to take a better look at the ring. It was very pretty. Silver. Interwoven elements made it look a bit like a braid. He noticed there was something engraved inside. He pulled the candle closer, and tried to read the words. ‘My heart – yours forever’ in Tevene. He put his hand to his mouth. Had it been like that when Nadami had gotten it? Did she know what it meant? Or had she engraved it?

And he refused to take it!

Feeling like a pile of shit, he put the ring on his finger. It felt uncomfortable, pressing on the lyrium lines on both sides of his digit. He wriggled the fingers to take a better feel of it, and it hurt. He made a fist, and the edges of the ring dug too deeply into his skin. He couldn’t wear it.

He took it off, disappointed. He held it in his hand, looking at it, studying it, wondering how he could make it up to her.

He had no idea how much time passed before he heard her steps. He always could easily tell apart Zevran and Nadami walking. He put the ring on his finger; for tonight he’d bear the pain. For her.

He rose and followed the steps. She went to the bathroom, so he went to the bedroom, and waited for her there, assuming she would come here to rest afterwards. He absent-mindedly turned the ring on his finger, and immediately let go. It hurt.

Finally she appeared in the door wrapped in a big towel. She looked at him. Her hair was wet and still slightly dripping. There was a fresh cut on her shoulder. She didn’t said anything, just sat next to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly.

She looked at his hand. Then took it and gently squeezed. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem, but with the ring on it, it was painful. He winced.

“It hurts!” she said. He didn’t reply. She took his hand, and started to very delicately slide the ring off. He curled the fingers to stop her. “No, if it hurts, I don’t want you to wear it,” she protested.

“I can wear it tonight.”

“No.” She tried to softly pry his fingers open.

“Did you engrave it or was it like that?” he asked.

“I found it on a flea market. I thought it was pretty. I wasn’t even sure the vendor didn’t lie and it was really Tevinter. I needed to find someone who speaks the language first. And then I didn’t know if it’s correct or even Tevene, not some random gibberish.”

So much trouble. For him. And he…

“I’ll wear it tonight. Let me wear it tonight,” he said. “I have to make it up to you.”

She shook her head. “You can make it up to me differently,” she said, kissing him. He let her open his hand, and take the ring off.

Relieved that her hurt feelings were already gone – so often it took a lot longer than one afternoon – he raked aside her damp hair, and started kissing her neck. He unwrapped the towel and her pale, freckled body was exposed to him in its full beauty. He kissed, licked, and caressed every inch of it, enjoying the smell of her freshly washed skin, how smooth it was to his touch. He squeezed harder, and watched red marks appear, then fade. She sat up and started undressing him. She kissed every spot she uncovered, her fingers drawing patterns around his patterns.

“You like drawing pictures on me,” he whispered. She gave him an asking look. “You re-draw my markings,” he explained, tracing the movement of her finger.

“Oh, there are few things I’d wish to do more than just put my hand on your skin and get a full feeling of it, but I try to avoid touching the lyrium. I don’t want to cause pain.”

His eyebrows raised. “Is that what you are doing?” She nodded. He took her hand and put on his chest, right where the white lines ran. Her palm was warm. He could feel the sensation of her touch more intensively on the markings, but it was not painful or unpleasant. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said.

She leaned to him and licked his throat, up the vertical line running to his chin. “How about this?”

“Wet, warm, tickles.”

She did it again, up to his chin, up to his mouth and kissed him deeply. He pulled her in, and they kissed for a long while. Then he pushed her on her back and leant over her.

“Why did you give it to me?” he asked, when they cuddled afterwards.

“It’s Tevinter. You’re a Tevinter. I thought it would remind you of home.” She silenced for a moment. “Not the bad things, of course. The good things. There had to be good things. Like pretty trees. Or hot weather that melts Fereldans. Or food. Or smells. Home.”

She wasn’t wrong; sometimes, rarely, he did miss what he’d left behind. But right now something else was on his mind. “Are you homesick, Nadami?”

She didn’t answer for a long time. “Yes,” she said eventually. He held her tighter. “I’ll be all right,” she added. “Just… sometimes… I miss it. I thought you did too.”

“Sometimes.”

“Fenfen, you had a different name before… you know,” she asked, nestling herself in his arms.

He leaned his chin on her head. “Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer it? Why don’t you use it? Why you still use a name that was given to you forcefully, brutally, in pain.”

“Leto is dead. I don’t know him. He’s gone and not coming back. I’m me, and I have been Fenris since I remember.”

“But if you’d like…” She looked at him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I like when you call me ‘Fenfen’.”

She smiled.

She fell asleep, nestled to his side. He held her on his chest with one hand, while playing with the ring in the other.

“What’s this?”

Fenris hadn’t noticed Zevran coming in. The Antivan stood in the dark room, his hair being the brightest thing visible in the faint moonlight. “A ring. She gave it to me. It’s a… a love gift.”

“Will you wear it? Does it fit under your spiky gloves?”

“I can’t. It hurts.” He sighed. “I wish I could.”

Zevran left the room but was back soon after. He climbed the bed, and sat next to Fenris. He took the ring from the Tevinter’s hand, and put it on a thin, golden chain, then put the chain on Fenris’s neck.

The tall elf took the ring on the chain into his fingers, then smiled at Zevran. “That works.”

Zev placed a quick kiss on his lips, then left the room. He was back, refreshed, lay down next to Nadami – she always slept between them – and fairly quickly fell asleep too.

Fenris kept playing with the ring, thinking.


	26. Chapter 26

Moaning and sighing woke Nadami up. Still groggy, she stretched and slowly opened her eyes. It was already bright, so it took her a long moment before she could properly look around. The sensual sounds did not go away, however. Unclear shadows near the window took elven shapes as her vision finally adjusted to the morning’s light.

She watched them. Zevran stood facing the window, his hands on the windowsill, head thrown back, eyes closed, and throaty moans coming out of the chest. Fenris was right behind him, his arms wrapped around the Antivan’s chest and belly, lips and tongue licking, and teeth gently biting his shoulder. Then his hand slid lower to work up and down Zevran’s cock. Their muscles working, their bodies taut, covered by markings: Zevran’s black and Fenris’s white. Zevran’s tan skin contrasted with Fenris’s milky complexion. They appeared to her like two living pieces of art, a beautiful aesthetic of healthy, fit elven bodies.

She watched them climax, then rest for a while; Fenris was still hugging Zevran, while Zevran had his hand around the Tevinter’s arms. The tall elf sank his nose in his lover’s blond hair. He closed his eyes and seemed to enjoy the moment. Zev turned around, threw his arms around Fenris’s shoulders, and kissed him. At first they seemed to be in conflict who turned head which way, and bumped their noses, but soon their tongues freely engaged in tasting each other.

They stopped kissing. Fenris leant his forehead on Zevran’s, and they stood like that until the Antivan turned his head slightly to glance at Nadami. “Enjoying the show, mmm?” he asked.

She blushed but also smiled. “You’re are both so lovely to look at.”

Zevran moved toward her, and climbed the bed next to her. He raked aside her hair – his fingers stuck entangled in the messy after-sleep wisps until he gently freed them – and kissed her neck. She delicately caressed his ear, then when his head was in a convenient position, licked it up to the tip.

“Zevi, we need to talk about something,” she whispered. Only now she realised Fenris had left the room. Sounds of splashing water indicated he was in the bathroom.

“Mmm?” the Antivan looked at her.

“Fenris mentioned something about...” she hesitated. “About stirring some trouble in Tevinter. It sounds like he can’t just go on knowing how many people suffer over there.”

“Name things as they are, Dami. He wants to start a slave rebellion.”

She nodded. “Uhm, I suppose it’s as good a name for it as it gets.” She paused. “That means he’d go back some day. Maybe not forever, but he would need to be there to do that.” She looked down. “Zevran, I…” How could she phrase it?

“You want to go with him.” It was a statement, not a question.

She frowned, still not looking up. He raised her chin, and forced her to look into his eyes. “Nadami, all your life you ran around Ferelden, trying to save elves from slavery. You hunted slavers and captains that transport them across the sea. You worked for Orlais government. I’m surprised Alistair never hired you.” He smiled. “I understand. I would be astonished if you didn’t want to go with him.”

“It wouldn’t mean leaving you,” she assured him. “I would be back. I can’t live without you, I never could. Even away, you’d be in my thoughts.” He gently touched her cheek, as if trying to calm down her babbling, to tell her he knew all that already. “But think of possibilities. And if you agreed to help us, that would make things really–” She continued speaking but Zevran didn’t seem to pay attention to any of it any longer. His eyes kept dropping to her nose for some reason. She finally silenced, watched him for a short moment, and eventually asked, “Anything wrong with my face?”

His eyes darted to hers, and his face was brightened by a lovely, cheerful smile. “Your freckles. Your freckles are darker.”

She rubbed her nose. “Yeah, the Antivan sun did that, I suppose. They were never this visible before I left Ferelden.”

He took her head in both his hands, and pulled it to himself. Then he kissed her nose. “You look so lovely!”

“You really think so?” she asked sheepishly. “I always thought they make me look like a speckled nug.”

He pulled her closer and kissed again, this time on the mouth. Then hugged, and whispered to her ear. “You’re the prettiest woman in Antiva. In Ferelden. In Thedas! Now the prettiest speckled woman. I’ll fight anyone who disagrees, yes?”

“Have you even been listening to me?” she asked.

“You love me, you want to free Tevinter slaves with Fenris. You talk much.” he summarised.

She smacked his shoulder. “Hey!”

He placed a peck on her cheek, then got up. “Breakfast!” he said cheerfully, then left the room as he was standing, completely nude.

Nadami hoped that Shannie had enough reason not to try to come upstairs now. Or ever.

 

* * *

 

 

“Master,” Shannie said behind Zevran, and it took him a moment to catch it had been addressed to him. He still couldn’t get used to be called like that. He was ‘hey you, elf’ all his life with the pleasant diversion of Shale’s ‘Painted Elf’. He looked at her. “There is someone outside insisting to see you.”

“Who?”

“An elven kid. He says his name is Eeyo, if that means anything to you.”

Zevran started to laugh. He waved for her to leave, and laughed all the way to the door. Indeed, his young friend was right there.

“Eeyo, my dear friend!” the Crow stretched his arms toward the kid.

“Zevran!” the young elf returned the hug.

The Antivan took his face into his hands. “You’re a Dalish man now, mmm?” he noted, seeing still healing tattoos on Eeyo’s face.

“Yes, I am. And I made an adult decision. I want to be a Crow.”

Zevran smiled. He had to admit he was impressed. Still very young, Eeyo had to take his _vallaslin_ quite early, but apparently had proved to be mature enough to complete the ritual. And then to set off, travel all across Ferelden, the sea, the Free Marches, and half of Antiva to get here. Safe and sound. With a decorated bow on his back. If he was determined enough to achieve that, Zevran was not about to send away such a promising recruit.

“No special treatment,” he warned Eeyo.

“I don’t need any special treatment. I can prove it to you!”

“Fine then.”

The youngster smiled. “Yes!”

He led the kid inside. “Before I arrange everything, I think you owe someone an apology, yes?”

Eeyo stopped. “Nadami’s here?” Zevran nodded. “Where? I do need to talk to her.” The young elf’s eyes filled with tears. “Now,” he demanded.

“Come, let’s eat. You must be hungry and tired. I’ll send for her.”

They went to the main room, where at the dining table a thin figure with a mop of white hair slouched over a book.

“Ho!” Eeyo shouted, ran to the figure and wrapped his arms around him.

Zevran worried Fenris would startle and flare up with a glow, but the kid’s exclamation was warning enough. He laughed at Eeyo hanging on his back, and patted the elf’s head. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I will be a Crow!” the youngster proudly announced.

“Is that so?” Fenris looked at Zevran, but not for confirmation. His eyes returned to Eeyo’s face, as he turned to him. “Look at you, an adult Dalish now.”

“Pffft. They’re boring. Just hunt, and hunt, and learn about dead gods. But I like mine.” He pointed to his _val_ _l_ _aslin_. “God of death whose animal is an owl, a quiet bird of the night!”

Zevran cackled at that, and left the room in search for Nadami. These two had some pain to ease. He wondered how she’d feel. Would she even want to talk to the kid? Or she’d never forgive him how ungrateful he had been to her? His words had hurt her deeply, and Zevran wasn’t sure whether she would ever let that go. Sometimes, she could cling to things and badger about them for weeks, months, even years in some instances. Considering the risk of her possible refusal to talk to the kid, the Antivan decided not to tell her why he wanted her to follow him. Eeyo deserved a chance to apologise.

He found her walking down the corridor toward the kitchen. He approached her as she smiled at him, took her head in his hands, and kissed. Then grabbed her hand, and pulled her back toward the main room. “Come, I have something to show you.”

“Oooh, colour me intrigued.” She followed him without resistance.

He braced himself for a possible explosion, when she finally entered the room. Eeyo and Fenris were chatting. The Tevinter carefully studied Eeyo’s bow. They both looked up when they heard the other two enter.

For a second Nadami stood frozen. Tears filled her eyes, and pain shaped her expression. Zevran was sure seeing the young Dalish brought all the hurt feelings back, all the memories she had tried to bury, everything was clear in her sensitive heart yet again. Would she just turn away and refuse to listen, to talk, to forgive?

Eeyo ran toward her with his arms stretched, and she immediately opened hers with a big smile; the pain completely gone from her face.

“I’m so so so sorry,” he said.

She just hugged him tightly. He had grown since the last time they saw him, so his face was almost on the level of hers. He put his chin on her shoulder.

“Shhhhhh,” she just said, caressing his hair. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I was so mean to you.”

“I’m just happy you don’t hate me.”

“I never did,” he replied, moving slightly away to look at her. “Not for a second. I was just angry and stupid.” He lowered his eyes. “I thought you hated me for what I said. You never returned to visit me.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to see me again.”

They hugged again.

Zevran looked at Fenris who watched them with such a blissful expression that the Antivan felt a strong need to just go and kiss that handsome face. The Tevinter noticed Zev watching him. He nodded toward the exit, so they both left the other two to catch up and have a long overdue conversation to heal their wounds.

Fenris held Eeyo’s bow up. “Look,” he said. “He carved them on his way here.”

Zevran took the weapon. It was covered with elegantly carved crows: in flight, in fight, sitting, whole bodies and heads only. And they weren’t carved only. Some were also painted. No, not painted. The Antivan neared the bow to his eyes; some were burnt into the wood. “This is quite impressive work, no?” he said.

“Indeed.” After a moment Fenris asked, “Are you going to take him?”

“Yes.”

“And if he changes his mind and wants to leave?”

Zevran didn’t have an immediate answer to that. Truth be told, he didn’t have an answer to that at all. He knew what kind of reply would anger Fenris, and he knew what kind of reply he wouldn’t like himself.

Intense look the other elf gave him was a clear indication that some kind of answer was expected. Fenris was not going to give up on this.

“I know why I left,” Zevran said eventually. “I know why Nadami’s father left.” He turned his eyes away from the Tevinter’s green gaze. “I… I want to make changes, so that no one wants to leave.”

If he hadn’t been expendable, if Rinna hadn’t been expendable, if things had played out differently, he’d never leave. He’d never want out. He’d never end up killing Taliesen. Nadami’s father would never ran away, if he was allowed to have a wife and a child.

No Crow was expendable. No Crow had no right to a full life.

He looked back at Fenris and his frown. “They’re my army. But not my property.” The frown deepened, and Zevran felt he’d chosen wrong words, so they sounded to Fenris like an attempt at pampering, which hadn’t been his intention. “I have plans for Eeyo,” he said, changing the subject or perhaps bringing it more to the point after Fenris’s question about the kid. “I hope he never wants to leave, because I need him.”

The Tevinter didn’t say anything. The frown remained on his face, but at least his drilling gaze left Zevran alone, as he looked away.

“The training is tough, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“If he doesn’t survive it?”

Zevran smirked. “Then he’s dead. If I allow him to skip it, he’d be dead on the first job. But that is not going to happen,” he said, shaking his head. “Eeyo is a tough elf. He came here. He’s brave and stubborn. I am sure he can make it. If I didn’t, I’d send him back home.” He silenced for a moment, then asked, “What about you? Do you have any immediate plans?”

Fenris gave him a surprised look. “Plans? Do you mean…?” The frown deepened, but it was painful, not watchful any more. Then it turned into a worried puppy face. “I can’t stay here?”

Zevran pulled him closer. “I would love for you to stay right here with me, but I thought you might want more than be my sidekick.”

“I… I have some plans, but nothing immediate. I need to… plan my plans. I need coin. I need to hire the Antivan Crows for a few contracts. Then… then we’ll see.”

“The Antivan Crows?” Zevran repeated.

“Yes, you heard of them, I presume. They’re big in Antiva.”

“Hmm, yes, yes, I think I’ve heard of them. What would you need with such a company?”

“I believe there are a few targets that need eliminating. But first I have to hire an information broker to get me details. Someone experienced in fighting slavery.”

“It’s possible I know someone like that,” Zevran said, patting his chin with his finger.

“Please, introduce me to this distinguished person.”

“No, she’s mine!”

“Share!”

“No!”

“I hate you!”

“How can you hate something as pretty as me!” Zevran put his hands on his hips in fake indignation.

“I can’t,” Fenris admitted, and kissed the tip of Zev’s nose. Then returned into the house.

The Antivan squinted his eyes and looked up at the sky. Whenever the other two would leave for their rebellion, it wasn’t any time soon, and that meant he’d enjoy their company for quite a while.

It was going to be a good day!


	27. Chapter 27

Zevran returned to the main room. Eeyo was eating, Fenris was back to his reading, while Nadami stood with her hands on her hips. The Antivan knew the storm was coming. Now, that the Fereldan and the young elf had clarified the matters between them, the reason of his coming here had had to come up. And she was not happy.

She noticed him, and quickly walked toward him. She grabbed his elbow, and pulled him outside to the garden.

“You are going to send him back, right?” she said.

“No.”

“Zevran!”

“No.”

“Zevran!”

“No.”

“Zevran!”

It started to amuse him. It had to be visible on his face, because she yelled even more angrier than before. “Zevran!”

To break the cycle, he said, “It’s his decision. And mine.” Implying: not hers.

“Zevran!”

He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly with a sigh. “Mi amora, I understand you worry about him like any mother would.” Her eyes opened wide at that statement. “But this is his dream. This is what he wants to do, to be. He came all this way, and found our house. He’s smart. He’s stubborn. He worked hard to achieve this. I will not send him away.”

She bit her lower lip. He could see she was still upset. He wished he were able to calm her down, to make her stop worry, but he didn’t know what he could say to make that happen. He gently took her hand into his. She gave him a furious glare, and ripped her hand out of his, then went back into the house.

He decided to stay out of Nadami’s way for a while, so opted to contact Thiago to discuss the details of Eeyo’s near future. As he had warned the young Dalish earlier, he had no intention of making it easier for him, but also didn’t want it to be harder. Any relationship between them had to remain a secret for the time being, for his trainers not to be easy on him in fear of Zevran’s retaliation or make it harder because he was Zevran’s protégé. Because that was what he was, no?

Zevran had told Fenris the truth: he had plans for the city elf turned Dalish. He didn’t think he could trust any other Arainai, so he needed to groom his closest comrade himself. Eeyo was slightly older than a usual recruit but his willingness should make up for it. He just needed Thiago to bring the kid in.

Strange. It seemed he had enough trust for the old man. Cannot go without trusting absolutely anyone, he supposed.

 

* * *

  
Fenris liked exploring Antiva City. It was warm, even when it rained, and quite beautiful. Many women wore elegant clothes, and were flirty, although not as disgustingly vulgar as Isabela. Men weren’t far behind with their sparkling garments or flirts. Fenris had received a few winks here and there; no matter how often it happened, it always caught him by surprise.

The hedonistic culture reminded him slightly of Tevinter, which left him with mixed feelings. People over here loved splendour, but it wasn’t carried on anyone’s back. Not the same way it was in the Imperium anyway. Naturally, a beggars here and there, young children running about in rugs, slums a lot less sparkly and a lot let flirty, but the general impression he had of Antiva was… cheerful. Like Zevran. He was his land’s child.

“Well, well, well,” a voice in front of him said. Concentrated on architecture – or his own thoughts – he didn’t notice a group of men standing in the alley, apparently waiting for him to approach. “We have the glowy one right here, ey?”

Not strangers, then, since they knew he was ‘glowy’, even though their faces didn’t look familiar.

“You don’t want trouble,” he grumbled.

“No, of course not. Neither do you, glowy.”

“Then get out of my way.”

“Look, let’s be reasonable. We just come with a warning, ey?”

“What warning?”

“We warn you that it’s not wise to sleep with the boss’s girl. And we warn you that if you don’t pay up, the boss will know.”

Fenris frowned. “So you think blackmailing me is a good idea.”

“Everybody has to make a living, ey? We make a living of killing people and warning people. Which do you prefer?”

While their faces still didn’t ring a bell, it was obvious they were Zevran’s Crows, and apparently they had seen the Tevinter and Nadami doing something that revealed their close relationship. They’d jumped to conclusions and now hoped to profit on that.

Fenris slowly walked toward the man. “I have a warning for you too,” he said. When he was close enough, he flared up, and put his hand through the man’s chest before he had any time to react and avoid it. “Don’t blackmail me,” he barked. “It’s not wise.” Then he pulled the hand out without inflicting permanent damage.

The man bent forward in pain, then fell on his knees, clutching his hands to his chest. His comrades stepped back, as the Tevinter looked in their direction. One stretched his hands forward in a defensive gesture.

“Be gone!” Fenris yelled.

They scrambled away, and their leader followed, tripping over his own feet. The elf watched them run, then thought that he had to tell Zevran about the incident. Better the Antivan learnt about it from him rather than from them. This wasn’t going to end well.

He knew Zevran was in the bidding house today, so decided to head over there instead of home.

The bidding was loud, and appeared chaotic. It made Fenris long for silence and solitude. He was not stopped on his way inside, probably because most of the Crows knew who he was by now, and stood by the door to the large room not to disturb the proceedings. Zevran glanced at him, but didn’t interrupt the bidding. The Tevinter didn’t mind; his intention wasn’t to hinder but just to catch Zev sooner rather than later.

After a while Fenris realised that ‘chaotic’ could be the first impression, but in fact things progressed in a manner that everyone clearly found satisfying. Eventually Thiago called for a short recess, and Zevran smiled at Fenris.

He approached the Tevinter. “Missed me, mmm?” The other elf raised an eyebrow with mocked scepticism. “That much?” Zevran pretended to be delighted. Fenris sighed with resignation.

Then he became serious. He watched people conversing in the room, then looked back at his lover. “There was an incident,” he began. “With I assume your people.”

Zevran frowned. “Go on.”

“A few approached me and tried to blackmail me. They referred to you as ‘boss’, so I think they were Arainai Crows. I don’t recall seeing them, so probably small pawns.”

“Blackmail you about what?”

“At some point they had to notice Nadami showing me affection or something like that. I don’t know. They threatened with telling you ‘about us’.”

“Did you kill them?”

Fenris was surprised by the question. “No, they’re your people. I won’t go about killing your Crows.”

“Tsk,” Zevran puffed, semi-absent-mindedly watching the crowd milling about. “While I don’t expect them to treat each other like best friends and family, I will not have any blackmailing others for whatever reason.” He sucked his upper lip. “They are to co-operate and be able to count on each other to do jobs together, not stab in the back and hide secrets for the right price.” He seemed quite upset about it, Fenris noted with surprise. “You should have killed them.”

The other elf didn’t know what to say to that. He could understand the reasoning behind it, though. While each Crow was a free bird – pun not intended – sometimes they needed to work together on bigger jobs and their lives and the task’s success depended on everybody playing their role. Some degree of trust was required.

“Do you want me to deal with them?” Zevran asked.

“No, I think I made my message clear to them.”

“Fine then. We can consider the matter closed, yes? Unless there is something else?”

“No. I just wanted you to know, in case they decide to act upon their threat and tell you I sleep with your woman.” Zevran’s smirk told Fenris they wouldn’t survive it. “I’ll leave you to your work,” the Tevinter said, and was just about to leave.

“Oh, Fenris!” Zevran called. The Tevinter stopped. The other elf approached him, put his hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him down closer, then pried his lips open with his tongue and gave him a wet, juicy kiss. Right in front of everyone.

“Won’t that make them lose respect for you?” Fenris asked, when they disengaged.

“Having two regular lovers?” Zevran chuckled. “Fenfen, we’re in Antiva!” With that, he walked away back to the room.

The Tevinter watched him for a short moment, then left the building and headed home. He noticed that the Crows moved out of his way much sooner and faster that before.

 

* * *

 

Nadami entered the massive house quite impressed. Was this the difference between a rich Crow grandmaster and a fallen House left-over she and her elves now lived in? Turo swam in coin, that was certain.

He had invited her. It was urgent and very important, the messenger had said.

She was led by a servant to a big room with a huge table in the middle and all kinds of shields as decoration on walls. Turo stood by a window, looking out. She approached him, leant on the wall, and waited.

He was silent for a while, then said, still not turning away from the view outside to look at her, “I am fully aware that I have no right to say this, and that it’s none of my business, but I ask you to bear with me and let me finish, before you protest.” She didn’t say anything. After another long moment he continued, “Most of women… most of people in Antiva would consider it a privilege to share a bed with one of guildmasters. It’s a comfy place to be.” He finally turned to her, while she defiantly crossed her arms on her chest. “But also any guildmaster I know would expect exclusivity. His regular lover, unless a wife of a rich benefactor, would share his bed and his bed alone. Any… transgression of this unwritten law would most likely end up with the deaths of both the transgressor and her lover.” His gaze softened. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially not something like this. In addition, a Cabrero killed by an Arainai without a contract – especially the grandmaster – would do nothing good for our internal politics.” He sighed. “I don’t know if or how you could still salvage this. If it reached my ears, it certainly had Zevran’s. I can try to protect you, but his honour, his reputation is already shaky and leaving such a ‘stain’ would not be in his best interest.” He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t care if he shreds his bodyguard to pieces for touching you, but I’m worried about you,” he said quietly.

Her demeanour softened. “You’re right, it’s none of your business,” she said. She lowered her hands. “But I’m not in danger, Turo. Whatever gossips the Crows exchange these days, this one wouldn’t be news to Zevran.” She leant toward him and whispered, “Fenris is not his bodyguard.”

Then she slowly headed for the exit, while her uncle turned back to the window, looked outside, and started quietly laughing. The further she was, the louder his laughter.

‘Antivans,’ she thought amused. ‘Nothing impresses them more than someone’s sexual prowess.’ She knew, however, that she should warn both Zevran and Fenris that people gossiped about them.

 

* * *

  
Nadami watched Fenris and Eeyo practise in the garden. It became their morning ritual by now; each day they started from some kind of warrior martial art forms that Fenris taught to the younger elf. He was a patient teacher, and Eeyo seemed to be an eager student. Sometimes they froze mid-form, and the Tevinter talked. Explained things, perhaps?

And so she watched them each morning through the window from the main room with a cup of steaming tea in her hand.

Fenris ruffled Eeyo’s brown hair, and the kid laughed. Then the Dalish went to the kitchen through the back door, while Fenris came to the main room.

“Looks like you two have a good connection,” she said.

He gave her a suspicious look. “No,” he simply said.

“You don’t?”

“Nadami, you can’t fool me,” he sighed. “Yes, I do have a good connection with him. I want to. He’s a great young man. But no, I will not do your deed. It’s his decision.”

“It’s a stupid decision.”

“It’s his mistake to make. And Zevran would never let anything happen to him.”

“But–”

“No.”

“Tell him, convince him!” Nadami pleaded him.

“Why should I? This decision isn’t yours.”

“He’s too young to decide for himself. And Zevran is an idiot.” All she got as a reply was an mocking look. “You have to see this is not right!”

“The kid has a dream. Why stand in his way? He made a choice.”

“He doesn’t understand the full implications of that choice. He’s too young. Too naive.”

“Give him some credit.”

She looked at his markings. He frowned, probably sensing where she was just about to hit, but she said it anyway. “Didn’t you make a choice, too?”

“Don’t you dare,” he growled.

“Were you happy with the result?”

“Don’t!”

“You thought it was for good. And look what it got you!”

He flared and pointed his index hinger at her face. “Don’t!” he roared.

“You should know. You of all people should know! You should be on my side!”

“How dare you!”

Tears filled her eyes. “I hate you! I hate you both! You’ll get the kid killed!”

She ran toward the door, and kept running until she was out of the building. The hot Antivan day mocked her fury with its cheerfulness.

She had to do something. Anything! She just couldn’t stand that worry, that fear, that anxiety.


	28. Chapter 28

Eeyo woke up with a feeling of dread. He sat up, breathing fast and heavily. A few minutes passed, but calm wasn’t coming. Tears formed in his eyes, so he shut them close, pushing drops out from under his lids. He wiped his face. He was scared and angry.

Slowly, he calmed down. He laid on his side, and curled up. Was he having doubts? No, he knew he wasn’t. He wouldn’t want to back out. So why all this? Why panicking? It was something he wanted most in his entire life, so why was he so terrified that he had woken up in the middle of the night barely able to breathe?

There was another boy sleeping in the room, and a girl. She was younger than the two of them, and she snored. Eeyo found it amusing.

Before he had arrived here, Zevran had said there was no backing out. Last chance to change his mind, but Eeyo hadn’t wanted to change his mind. He understood fully what he was getting himself into, but he believed the price was not too high.

He was sorry Nadami was so upset. He hoped to explain his reasoning to her, but she had been deaf to his arguments, thinking only of the ‘trap’ he was stepping into. Every conversation had ended with a row. He’d hoped to part with her on good terms, especially since he had no idea how long his training would take. It could be years before he would be allowed to see her, for all he knew, but even that had been cut short, because after a terrible quarrel with Fenris – about him, no less, which made him feel guilty – she’d left and didn’t return. Neither elf knew where she had gone, and after two days everybody started to worry. Then Zevran had brought Eeyo to Thiago, who in turn had brought him over here, so the Dalish had no idea whether she was back home or still missing.

He absent-mindedly tried to scratch an itchy place on his leg before realising he should not irritate skin. He sat up, and uncovered a still-healing tattoo Zevran had made at his request. After taking his _vallaslin_ this was no biggie. The skin was almost completely healed but at this stage also the most itchy. He gently rubbed the scabs through the fabric of his clothing, trying to relieve the sensation. It helped a bit. He then uncovered the tattoo and looked at it. It was a red dragon. Eeyo thought that Zevran had done a really great job: the details were wonderful, even though they weren’t fully visible yet due to the scabs covering the fine lines. Instead of typical scales, the dragon was covered by a peculiar pattern. It was something his father had taught him, and what he’d carved on furniture he’d decorated. He had drawn it for Zevran, and the elf beautifully combined it with the dragon.

He missed his dad.

Calmer now, Eeyo stretched on the bed. Still not particularly sleepy, he was looking forward to the morning to see what it would bring.

 

* * *

 

It hadn’t been that long since he’d met her, but in spite of that Fenris clearly felt a hole without Nadami around. He missed her. Somehow just Zevran and he wasn’t sufficient any more; an element was missing. If someone had told him less than a year ago that he would live in Antiva in a relationship with two people madly in love with them, he’d rip their heart out for spouting such nonsense. But here he was. One reckless, cheerful elf and one over-sensitive, irrational human were most of his world now.

Sometimes his thoughts went to Hawke. How was she? He’d heard news, but official information or gossips were not exactly the matters he was interested in. There still was a drop of bitterness in his heart at how the situation with her had developed, but mostly his anger was gone. He’d found a different place for himself, and he was aware that if not almost a decade with her and of her calming influence, he’d never open up this quickly to either Zevran or Nadami.

Things felt easier now. He didn’t suspect everyone of malice, he wasn’t on the run, and he had people to care about and to protect – by choice. He didn’t feel he needed to be on guard all the time.

He sighed. If only one of those people wasn’t a cause for worry right now. It’d been days since Nadami had left after their argument. Even emptier since Eeyo had gone to his Crow training.

Fenris still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. He knew becoming a Crow assassin was Eeyo’s dream, and he also knew Zevran would not allow any harm come to him, but at the same time he couldn’t picture the young elf as a ruthless murderer for hire. Then he thought of Zevran’s lovely blond head and wide smile; clearly a light-hearted demeanour did not stand in a way of professionalism of an assassin. Even empathic Nadami was capable of going for a kill when necessary. Still, involving himself into something that he could never leave grated Fenris’s sensitivity to having free choices.

Zevran entered the room, stopped and looked at Fenris, then approached the table, leant his elbows on it on the opposite side from the tall elf, put his chin on his entwined fingers, and stared at the Tevinter with his honey-coloured big eyes. Fenris looked back at him and waited, but the Antivan did absolutely nothing else. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just blinked and gawked with the usual smile playing on his full lips. The Tevinter waited, wondering if there was a reason for that, and in case there wasn’t, he decided to out-wait Zevran to see how long he’d stay like that.

And so they looked at each other for long minutes. The Antivan apparently quickly grasped the game Fenris was playing, and did not intend to lose. Eventually he slightly shifted his leg – the position of his entire body couldn’t be very comfortable – but pretended nothing happened. Fenris’s eyebrow raised, while the other frowned; he would not allow any cheating. Zevran’s smile widened, he straightened and went to Fenris, then sat on his lap. He took the tall elf’s head in his hands, then leant forward and kissed him. The Tevinter put the book he was reading – or rather staring at for the last half hour while thinking – and wrapped his arms around Zev’s waist to pull him closer. Zevran’s kisses were always so gentle, so sweet, so warm, almost as if he was teasing. A promise of more, but only if you made it clear you wanted more. The longer they kissed, the tighter was Zevran’s hug. His kiss became softer again, and a moment later he moved away a bit. Then his warm, wet lips moved to Fenris’s neck and kissed right under his ear. He felt the pleasant sensation of the Antivan’s tongue licking his skin. He teased the bottom of his ear, they travelled all the way up to its tip. This position neared his neck to Fenris’s face, so the tall elf kissed him right under his chin. His teeth delicately grabbed skin and his tongue slid on the pulled fold. Then he let go. Zevran raised Fen’s head again, slightly opened his mouth and his shiny tongue found its way between Fenris’s lips again.

They kept kissing, but eventually Zevran stood up. Fenris was slightly disappointed. The closeness and the sensual touch of Zevran’s hands and lips had aroused him. The Antivan grabbed his hand, then pulled him up and out of the room. Very quickly the Tevinter realised they were headed for the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Shannie brought one plate and put it in front of Fenris. Slightly surprised, he raised his eyes from the book he was reading, and asked her, “What?”

“It’s already past the regular evening meal time. You must be hungry.”

As it often happened recently, Fenris had lost the track of time when reading. “Zevran?” he asked, looking around. Shannie had brought only one dish.

“He said he wasn’t hungry. I hoped he’d change his mind, hence the delay, but he didn’t.”

“I’ll talk to him,” the elf stood up.

She nodded, and returned to the kitchen, while he set off in search for the Crow. He finally found him in one of rooms upstairs by a window, looking outside. He approached him, but didn’t say anything. Zevran was… grim. Even his hair seemed darker and dimmer than usual. Fenris didn’t even know Zevran was capable of such a mood. His Antivan ray of sunshine was behind thick, grey clouds.

“She’s not coming back,” The Antivan whispered. There was desperation in his voice Fenris had never heard before. “I chased her away.”

The other elf didn’t know what to say. It was true but at the same time it wasn’t. Nadami was stubborn. Her motherly feelings for Eeyo were the direct cause of this mess. There wasn’t much Zevran could do about that. Denying the kid his request would not solve the matter, only bring different kind of trouble. One way or another someone would be upset.

“She’s probably half way back to Ferelden,” Zevran continued quietly. He looked at Fenris. “All this… effort… for nothing. She ended up with a broken heart and alone anyway.”

Fenris didn’t think it was that simple. She knew they loved her. She knew Zevran loved her. But he thought her leaving like that was overreacting. He wasn’t even sure she had left indeed; it was possible she just needed some time alone. He was no stranger to such a need, and could understand her reasons. Too much all at once. It could be overwhelming.

“Don’t write her off yet,” he said.

The Crow turned to him, and kissed him. “I still have you,” he said. Then turned back to the window. “But if you’d rather follow her, joined her, and stayed with her, I’d be happy for both of you.” He rubbed his face. “I never meant to hurt her.”

Fenris stood behind him, wrapped his arms around him, and put his chin on Zev’s head. A warm evening breeze moved the Antivan’s loose hair, tickling his neck. He enjoyed the sensation.

He expected Zevran to disrupt the quiet moment with a joke or a tease, but nothing like that came. The Crow was clearly not himself tonight.

“Come eat,” Fenris said quietly.

“Not hungry.”

“I don’t care. Come.”

“You don’t care?”

“I’ll force feed you.”

“Will you?” The tone of Zevran’s voice gained a bit of the usual jest. A challenging jest in this case.

“I will put it directly in your belly, so you will miss all the tastiness it would otherwise leave on your tongue.”

The Antivan turned in his arms to face him, raised his head to look at him, and finally the tiniest of smiles appeared on his face.


	29. Chapter 29

“The Crows send their regards,” she said, and sank her dagger in the man’s chest. She’d thought it would be difficult, but after being groped by the lewd pig for hours the satisfaction from taking his miserable life was undeniable. It took him a few minutes to bleed out and die, but the expression on his face didn’t change: surprise. He hadn’t seen that coming.

She stood up, then pulled her dagger out of his body. She roughly wiped it against his own bedsheets, then sheathed it.

It was very late by the time she returned to the main seat of House Cabrero. On a hunch, she decided to check if her master was still up. Hopefully not in the middle of being entertained by ladies, since she wouldn’t want to annoy him by interrupting Antivans’ favourite past time.

She found him in the main room, discussing something with two humans. He noticed her, and gestured for her to stay and wait. He approached her after his business with the others was done.

“The task has been completed,” she reported.

“So I’ve heard. The news travelled fast.” He paused. “It was quite impressive. To be honest, I thought you were over your head, but I was wrong.” He looked toward the door, where Turo appeared.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said. A moment later they were alone. “I, for one, had no doubts you’d succeed. You passed all trials with flying colours; it shows your determination. My brother trained you from childhood. And Zevran taught you the rest, whether either of you realised that. You have now two sets of Crow skills; Fabio taught you how to fight directly, while Zevran taught you how to strike from shadows. It had to show on a job.” He handed her something folded in red fabric. “It belonged to your father.” She unwrapped the object: it was an intricately decorated dagger. Too fragile to be a real weapon. “He left it behind when he ran away. He’d be furious because of this development, but I am really proud of you,” he said. She looked up at him. His words appeared sincere.

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now starts the best part, my Crow princess,” he smiled. “But before that, go! Celebrate with your elves.”

He left the room, leaving her alone. For a moment she felt light-headed.

 

* * *

 

Zevran’s senses needed merely a split second to turn from groggy to sharp. A presence had woken him up, and now he sat up, ready to defend himself – or Fenris – from whoever entered their bedroom.

Nadami sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him, with one leg tucked under her. She was looking at him wide-eyed holding some kind of knife– no, it was a dagger. Had it been anyone else, they’d have a knife by their throat by now. But he trusted her implicitly, and a weapon in her hand wasn’t a reason to worry. Also, the dagger lay on her open palm, as if she was presenting it to him.

“It belonged to my father,” she said quietly.

Zevran took a better look at the object. It was clearly ceremonial, not a true blade. It had crows carved on its hilt, and the Cabrero crest on its blade. It took him a moment to understand the significance of it. A small cut on her forehead, and a bruise on her neck completed the picture.

He took her head in his hands, and looked into her eyes. “I am so proud of you, my dear,” he whispered.

Tears appeared in her eyes. He smiled and kissed each eye to dry them. Then wiped with his thumbs what had rolled down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tight.

“Why?” he asked when they disengaged.

“You don’t want to know,” she replied giving him a guilty look.

“Tell me.”

“I wanted to know what Eeyo is going through. A lot of my worry is caused by not knowing. You seemed so calm. Maybe it was my imagination creating all this… terrible nightmare he put himself into. I needed to know exactly what Crows go through. I needed to know if he can survive it.”

“He can,” Zevran said with conviction. “I truly believe that.” He did. He’d never agree to risk the kid’s life. She kissed him.

“I know the Crows don’t reveal their secrets to outsiders, so… the only way to discover those secrets was to...” She lowered her eyes, as if she was embarrassed.

Zevran thought her reasons were absolutely insane, but a part of him was happy to share it with her. They used to be – sort of – runaway Crows, and now they both were full Crows. That parallel was something that gave him comfort and made him feel closer to her. “Now take off those clothes. I want to see where it hurts, and make it better.”

“We’re going to wake him up,” she said, looking at sleeping Fenris.

“Easily solved, no?” Zevran got up, and pulled her out of the bedroom.

When Fenris woke up the next morning, the first thing he saw was Nadami sleeping on Zevran’s chest. He leaned to her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, hoping it wouldn’t wake her up.

Things were right again.

 

* * *

 

“I owe you an apology.” Fenris heard Nadami’s voice behind him.

He stopped reading the books’ titles on the shelves, and turned to look at her. “You do. For running away like a child, and making me worry.”

“That too. But mostly for all the nasty manipulation I tried to pull off. I’m really sorry. I was just upset and desperate.”

He gave her a small smile. “Apology accepted. I know you weren’t really yourself.”

“True. But to twist your sacrifice like that? I was a blow below the belt.”

“My sacrifice? You mean, what an idiot I was to volunteer for this?” He raised his arms a bit, exposing his markings to clarify what he was talking about.

She inclined her head. “Idiot? I never thought you were an idiot.”

“Well, you should.”

She watched him with a frown for a long moment. “Is that what you think of him?”

“What else is there to think? He asked for all this. _I_ had to pay the price.”

“Fenris...” She began, then silenced. Then started again. “Maybe I understood it all wrong, but you said that he’d volunteered for it.”

“Competed even.”

“So he wanted it badly. And he bought freedom for his mother and sister with it.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t know if he knew the price. Maybe he did, and still wanted to go for it for their well-being. Maybe he had no idea, but was willing to take the risk. He sacrificed his future to save his family’s future.” She took his face in her hands, and looked into his eyes. “He was a great guy, Fenris. He was brave and courageous, he cared about his family more than about himself.”

“I never thought about it that way,” he replied. He had thought a lot about the choice he didn’t remember making, but had never considered this angle.

“Whoever he was, Fenris, a part of him is still recognisable in you. The best part.” She kissed him.

He pulled her closer, and kissed back deeply. He was glad she’d returned. “We missed you. Zevran was shattered you could have left for good. All he wanted to do was to make you happy, and he thought it instead backfired so badly.”

She looked guilty. “I just needed… some time alone.” Her eyes went to her shoes. “Away from everything.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Everyone.” He rubbed her arms, offering comfort and understanding. “But I’m better now,” she said, looking up at him. Then she walked away, putting distance and a table between them. “I… went through Crow tests and initiation. I’m one of them now.”

“I didn’t think you ever considered it.”

“I didn’t. I wanted to know what they put Eeyo through.” She blushed, and her freckles got darker.

“You decided to entangle yourself into something serious for the rest of your life to see whether it was as bad as you thought it was for Eeyo?” he asked with a slight disbelief. “You realise what you did was incredibly stupid, don't you?” he added softly. Her solution to her anguish was hardly a good one. He usually understood her fairly well, but he could not fathom the reasoning behind this. On the other hand, it was entirely possible there was no reasoning involved at all; she lived through her passions and often they dictated her actions. She didn’t think, she just did.

“Sometimes you got to do what you got to do,” she answered, not looking at him. There was a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

“Consequences be damned?”

She leant on the table to face him. “Yes,” she replied. Her eyes went to his markings. “Consequences by damned.” Fenris wondered if her ill-considered solution brought her the relief she had sought.

Then she bounced off the table, smiled, walked around it, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again.

“What are you doing here! And why without me, mmm?” Zevran’s voice came from the door. They both giggled with their mouths still pressed together. A moment later Fenris felt Zevran’s arms around them. “Life is good, yes?” the Antivan said. The Tevinter was happy to hear the usual cheerfulness in the other elf’s voice. Life was good indeed.

 

* * *

 

“No, no, no, no, mi amor.” Zevran shook his head. “No, no, no.”

He walked away, leaving Fenris with an expression that almost made Nadami burst with laughter: one eyebrow raised, and the other frowned with confusion plus a loop-sided smile on top of that.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Even when he’s telling me ‘no’, he’s so cute I can’t be mad at him.”

Zevran glared at him.

“Did you ever see him trying to be snippy?” Nadami asked. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

Zevran glared at her, frowning, but a little smile playing on his lips revealed he enjoyed what he heard. “Mmm!” he exclaimed, rose his head with fake wounded pride, and left the room in big strides. That was too much, and both Fenris and Nadami laughed.

“So what was that about?” she asked, when they finally calmed down.

“Ah, no matter. I’ll convince him.”

“I have a proposal for you, my super elf.”

“Oh?”

“I accepted a contract, and I could use a trusted sidekick.”

“That sounds interesting, but I’m no assassin.”

“I’m sure you can be convinced to some slaver arse whooping. I pay with an awesome opportunity to whoop a few slavers’ arses and half of my coin.”

“Arse whooping sounds like a sufficient price,” he smiled.

“Probably, but you deserve to be paid for your services. I’m contracting you. Do with it whatever you want. Buy me flowers. Give it to Zevran. Spend on wine. You _will_ be paid.”

“Let’s discuss details, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't imagine what "snippy turned cute" Zevran sounds like, here's a sample: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNGJz7nud-A


	30. Chapter 30

The harbour smelled. With dried fish, with salty water, with some kind of fruit. It reminded Fenris of Seheron.

He was sitting on a bollard, watching Nadami talking to one of guards. They’d decided to bribe the man to look the other way instead of killing him, and it hadn’t been a difficult decision to reach. He was only doing his job, even if poorly. The man shook his head, but Nadami didn’t look troubled by that. He pointed somewhere, she nodded, then he went the way he’d point to, and she headed back to Fenris.

“He’s going to help us,” she said.

“Help? Do you trust him?”

“It would be suicide to cross a Crow like that.”

“Fair enough. Other than that, we proceed with the plan?”

“Yes. We just need to direct the elves to that alley,” she pointed to the place the guard had gone to. “He’s going to get them safely out of the port.” He still wasn’t comfortable with it. It had to show, because she added, “Fenfen, he’s not going to resell them. And if I’m wrong, he’ll pay the price. I’d go a full Antivan Crow all over his arse and he knows it.”

He just nodded. It was a risk, but just letting the elves find the way out in an unknown port on their own wasn’t the perfect solution either.

“Do you know which ship it is?” he asked.

“Yes, follow me.”

They headed off toward a vessel berthed at the far end of the mooring. The plank was down, with one man at the bottom on the land, and one at the top on the ship. There were noises coming from the deck. They quickly disposed of the guard on the land, and headed toward the other one. Unable to hide properly on the plank, they could count only on their luck for him not to spot them.

Luck wasn’t on their side, and he managed to warn the others before his death.

“Time for playing nice came to an end,” Fenris grumbled, reaching for his sword.

“Superelf,” Nadami mumbled, glancing at him.

A few men ran toward them, weapons in hands, and Fenris took a swing, cutting several at once with one move. From the corner of his eye he noticed a few elves on the deck, in chains, and his angered fuelled his strength. He flared up, and stepped back a bit to lure more scum in his direction, away from innocents, then with a roar radiantly expelled lyrium killing everyone in the closest vicinity. He swiftly finished off blinded, wounded and otherwise incapacitated rest.

A few slavers headed for the plank trying to run away, but Nadami didn’t let them reach the ground. The ship’s crew could be good fighters, but they were no match for a newly-minted Crow with years of training behind her ears and an experienced unique Tevinter warrior.

“I’ll search for keys, you go and calm them down,” Nadami said.

“Me?”

“You’re an elf, Fenfen. I’m just another _shem_ , no different than the others.” She knelt by the captain’s body, and started checking his pockets.

Fenris looked at the few elves that had been brought on the deck and watched the short battle. “We’ll get you to safety soon,” he said. The looks he received were a mix of doubt, worry, relief and suspicion.

He went to the crate that led to the lower deck. It was locked. He smashed the lock with his sword, then opened the crate. Lots of scared faces looked up at him. A few whimpers reached his ears. He put his sword on the deck, then went downstairs unarmed.

“We will get you out of here as soon as we find keys to take these off,” he pointed to the cuffs the closest to him elf had on his wrists.

“Who are you?” an elder man asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I would like to have a name when I tell my grandchildren stories our mysterious saviour.”

“My name is Fenris.”

“A good name. With a strong meaning.”

The Tevinter didn’t know what to say to that.

“Fenfen,” he heard Nadami’s voice coming from the deck. He looked up at her, and she threw him a bunch of keys.

“Those up there?” he asked.

“I already took that blasted stuff off them. They’re waiting for the rest. They refuse to get off the ship until they see the rest.”

Fenris started matching keys to locks, and taking off the chains one by one. One of freed elves asked for a few keys, and they continued together.

Eventually they led all elves to the guard, who was waiting as promised. As a precaution, Fenris flared up, frowned and said to the guy in his most grumbly voice, “You better fulfil your part of the deal.”

The guard, appropriately startled, nodded. “I will. I am not more happy such dealings take place in my port than you are, sera.”

Fenris squinted at him, then his demeanour softened and glow disappeared. He and Nadami watched the guard lead the liberated people away.

“What happens to them now?” the Tevinter asked quietly.

“They will have to find their way back home,” she said. “I wish we could do more, but there is a limit to what we can do. We’re just too poor for that kind of charity.”

“Who paid for freeing them?”

“That I can’t tell you, Fenfen.”

“Why?”

“Rules.”

Fenris sighed. It didn’t really matter, but he was curious who was generous enough and cared enough to spend their coin on such a contract. Or perhaps the target was the captain and his crew, and the elves were just lucky to be freed. Or lucky Nadami had taken the contract and freed them, instead of re-selling or just leaving chained in the cargo.

“Judging by their accents, they’re from Ferelden.”

“I think they are.”

He looked toward the water. “What about the ship?”

“It was involved in an illegal activity. It’ll be confiscated by the Antivan Harbour Guard, or whatever these guys call themselves.”

“Good,” he grumbled.

 

* * *

 

Fenris knew he was late for dinner, but hoped he didn’t upset Shannie. Not that she’d show it openly, but he was glad she felt comfortable enough with them to actually voice her displeasure when they did something to make her life and work harder.

He entered the main room to see Nadami and Zevran already eating. An empty plate was set up for him, waiting. Both his lovers looked up at him, then at what he carried, and neither asked a question about his tardiness.

First he handed Nadami a huge bunch of colourful roses he’d bought for her. “This is for you.” She took it with a surprised look. Then he put three bottles of wine he’d bought in the middle of the table. “This is for me, but I’ll gladly share.” Then he put a pouch of coins in front of Zevran. “This is for you.”

Finally, with his hands empty, he sat at his plate and filled it with the food that was on the table.

“Fenfen, I was joking,” Nadami said quietly, while Zevran opened the pouch, looked inside, and gave him an asking look.

“I know. But then I thought it was a good idea.”

“But flowers?”

“Since you mentioned them, I thought you liked flowers.”

“I… I don’t know. No one ever gave me flowers before.”

“No one?” Fenris asked, looking at Zevran. “For fifteen years it didn’t occur to you to give her flowers? Not even once?”

The Antivan still looked confused by what was happening. “What?” he asked, looking with unseeing eyes at Fenris. Then he looked into the pouch again. “But why?” His eyes went to the Tevinter’s face again.

“Why not? You need it, right? I don’t.”

“I do like flowers,” Nadami declared with conviction.

Fenris smiled at her. She got up and went to the kitchen. She returned not much later with the flowers neatly placed in a vase.

Zevran put the pouch close to Fenris. “I can’t take it. Thank you, but no.”

“You can and you will.” Seeing he wanted to protest, the tall elf added, “I have no use for it, Zev. All I need I get here. I sleep here, I eat here. Consider it my share of rent, if you will. But I want you to take it. Use it as you see fit. Rebuild your Crows. Give Shannie a bonus. Stash for dark times. Buy Dami flowers when these die. It’s your coin now.”

Zevran leant forward, took Fenris’s hand, and kissed tips of his fingers. “Thank you, mi amor.”

“Go for the ear, Zev!” Nadami shouted.

“Later, later.”

After the meal Fenris grabbed one of the bottles – the one they had already mostly emptied during the supper – and went outside. It was raining, but there was that special spot in the garden with a bench and a small gazebo that kept it dry. He sat, took a sip of wine, and looked at roofs that were visible above the garden’s thick brick fence.

Nadami joined him. He offered her the bottle, but she shook her head. “Can you do something for me?” she asked.

“What?”

“First promise you do it.”

“No.”

“Please! It’s nothing bad. Nothing tricky.”

“Then why you want the promise first?”

“You could be shy or something.”

That intrigued him. “No promise, but state your request.”

“Can you sing for me?”

“Can I… what?”

“Sing. The nice thing you do with your voice. The thing Eeyo taught you to do.”

He smiled. He had no idea how come she knew, but it didn’t matter. He put the bottle on the ground, straightened, and started singing the first song Eeyo had taught him. She listened, looking at flowers in the garden. She leant her head on his shoulder.

He avoided using that word, because each time he tried something happened to ruin it, but he could not deny that he was happy. Happy.


	31. Chapter 31

Zevran, with his booted legs on the table, was going through paperwork – had he known how much of that was involved, there was a good chance he’d skip the guildmaster part… maybe… probably… naaah – cursing flickering light of the candle, when he heard Nadami return home. She took a lot of contracts these days, and while Zevran didn’t ask, he suspected she enjoyed her work. Even when it left her drained. She now stood in the doorway to the room, and dropped her things right there where she’d stopped.

She looked very tired. She’d been gone for the whole day. Her hair was mostly undone mess, and he thought he could see leaves in it. It made her look a little like a forest creature: her red hair created a nice colour composition with the green of nature woven in. There was a smear on her cheek which looked like dried blood. Her clothes were dirty. Wherever her job had taken her, she clearly did some crawling in grass, trees, bushes or gardens.

A tired sexy Crow after work.

All those little details – the leaves, the smear of blood, the weary expression – made her look fantastic. Zevran felt a blood rush and a bulge formed in his trousers. All he wanted to do was to take off those filthy clothes off her, wash her body, brush her hair clean of dirt, and then make love to her, looking at her face with her target’s blood on it.

He stood up, put the papers away – they could wait, there was an emergency here! – and went to her. She wearily watched him. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the bathroom. He seated her on the wooden bench, then placed a bowl of water over a small fire Shannie kept there, and started removing Nadami’s clothing. She let him without a word and just submitted herself to his care.

As he was taking off pieces of her garments, he discovered all kinds of bruises, cuts, abrasions and other assorted small wounds that weren’t a threat but had to at least itch. If she wasn’t too tired to feel that.

When the water was warm, he took it off fire and placed next to her on the bench. He picked up a sponge and started washing her skin. First he rinsed it from dirt, then added soap to water, and gently cleaned her, while she watched him. He found two deeper cuts, so he applied an ointment on them; a traditional elven recipe he used himself.

She reached down and placed her hand on his crotch, feeling it for a moment. It only made the already clearly visible bulge more pronounced. She slid her hand inside; her fingers were warm and gentle.

She slid off the bench, turned to face it, lay belly down on it, exposing her shapely round buttocks to him. He put two fingers in, making sure she was moist and he wouldn’t cause pain. Apparently the washing procedure left her as hungry for him as he was for her. Or perhaps it was the excitement of the kill. He couldn’t tell. While he was not afflicted by such reactions, he knew in spite of her general gentleness, Nadami’s sexual appetites grew with the thrill of a kill. He lowered his trousers and slowly pushed inside her. She let a quiet sigh. He gently caressed her back, trying to avoid a purple bruise that seemed to grow under her right shoulder blade. She leant on her arms, raising above the bench, so his hands moved to her front and cupped her small perky breasts. He closed his eyes, hiding his face in her hair that smelled like fresh torn grass, and enjoyed every second of pleasure cruising through their bodies. His hand slid lower to her special spot. He touched it gently, and her loud breathing were replaced by quiet moans. She picked up the pace, so he responded in kind. She leaned on her elbows on the bench, groaning with each push. He placed his hands on her hips, taking charge of the speed. Hot wave of orgasm came over him, and he let out a loud throaty moan. They finished, panting, then sat on the floor, looking at each other. He took the sponge and washed the dried blood off her face. Slightly surprised that it had still been there all this time, she touched her cheek.

“I get turned on by dangerous Crow women,” Zevran murmured.

“So if I wasn’t bloodied, I wouldn’t get the full service?” she teased him.

“You always get the full service, mi amora.” He could see she was very tired. “Go to bed,” he prodded her gently.

She got up and exactly as she was, completely nude, went to the bedroom. Zevran dressed up, and returned to the main room to continue the waiting paperwork. So much paperwork!

 

* * *

 

If Shannie’s glares could kill, Fenris would be dead; he was sure. She didn’t say anything but her displeasure at his messiness was obvious. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

She just sighed. “Just go.” He could almost hear ‘before you make it worse’. She liked her kitchen nice and clean, and Fenris’s attempts at making a snack left it a mini-disaster.

He gave her a guilty smile, then heard Nadami calling him and Zevran. He took his sandwich, and headed for the main room.

“Sit down, both of you,” she said, sitting at the table.

“We’re not going to like it, are we?” Fenris sat on the opposite side. Her tone of voice was serious, and it clearly meant something unpleasant.

Zevran turned a chair around, and straddled it, leaning his forearms on the back of it.

She looked at the Antivan. “Zev, your taking over House Arainai was based on pretty much dismantling it from inside out first. It’s now vulnerable, without master assassins, and in complete chaos.”

“I’m fully aware of that,” he said, frowning.

“I know you’re working on promotions, and tests, and what not to fix that but it requires time.” He had no comment this time. Clearly, what she was saying was a prelude and the obvious didn’t require confirmation from him. “As a result, right now you’re open for pickings.”

“Get to the point,” he sighed. “How many?”

Fenris wondered how many what? Nadami clearly understood the question.

“One. For now. Your bought or intimidated allies still sit in corners. They’re either afraid you’d dismantle them from inside out too, or are happy they could climb the guild’s ladder on your back. That said, that one came from someone, and only another House would gain anything from it.”

“Cabrero?” Zevran asked.

“Uncle has no clear part in it.” Fenris noticed she called the guildmaster of her House more often uncle now, rather than by his name. “He’s not going to go against you, and I doubt he’d take a contract on your head, but I believe it’s more a matter of the Crows internal stability than any personal – or familiar – solidarity. Neither you or I mean that much to him.”

Fenris started putting it all together. Competing Crows wanted Zevran’s chair and there was one contract on his head. So far. The Tevinter had educated himself on the Crow politics in the recent weeks, and knew Crows murdering each other for power wasn’t anything new or unusual, so a new guildmaster with almost no power to lean on was ‘easy pickings’. Zevran’s life was in danger. Whether more than usually, he couldn’t tell.

She looked at Fenris. “Don’t get your eyes off him. There always must be a wall behind his back, and if there’s not, there should be you.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt him,” the tall elf replied. And he meant it.

“Once they realise your defences are impenetrable, there’s going to be contracts on your head,” she warned him.

“I’m not made of glass. It’d also not be the first time for me to be a target.”

“Keep your eyes and ears open,” she said. Then she relaxed a bit. “I’ll keep them open too. You both will be first to know if I hear any stir around.” She paused. “You need a good, daring contract, Zev. You need to prove them your worth.”

The Antivan pursed his lips, and watched Nadami for a while. “I have a question,” he said eventually. She raised her eyebrows, and nodded. “How much are you a Cabrero?”

Fenris wasn’t sure the question took her aback or stunned her. She blinked, and seemed to consider her answer, which in turn left him slightly stunned. As he understood Zevran’s enquiry, it was a matter of her loyalties, and she hesitated. He never thought of her as anything else than a part of their team, so the possibility that she didn’t feel the same way was surprising. After all they had gone through together, would she just switch due to meeting an uncle she hadn’t even known she had?

“Zevi,” she started softly. “I belong to Cabrero. You know what that means. But if Cabrero took a contract on any of you, I’d kill whoever would take it. And I’d keep killing them until not one was left alive, if necessary.”

“How much can I trust Turo?”

She sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t think all his help is some kind of plan to dethrone you, but again, for him it’s a matter of the Crows, and a lot less personal. If I were to guess, he probably sees you as a solid ally due to our relationship. I’m like a princess married to a king of neighbouring kingdom for eternal peace.”

“We can build on that,” Zevran said.

She nodded, agreeing with him. “Politics. Some things are more reliable than anything else.” She squinted her eyes at him, and her voice became harsher. “And don’t you dare to forget – I’m _your_ princess.”

He gave her a loopsided smirk. “I’ll make up for this severe offence, mi amora.”

“You better.” She squinted even more but Fenris knew it was all teasing now and meant as a joke.

“Out of curiosity,” the Tevinter said, “could someone dare to pay for assassinating a powerful man like Turo?”

“In theory, yes,” Zevran answered. “The problem would be with finding someone to take that contract. I’m not sure any House would want to, not openly anyway, and then a Crow would have to feel bold enough to try to kill him.”

“And if there is no one?”

“The contract is not taken. If everyone believes it’s impossible, it’s refused.”

“And if they take it and can’t complete it?”

“They die.”

Fenris didn’t have to ask how, that he knew and not from the books. Zevran was a walking example, although an exception at the same time, of what happened to a failed contract.

“Now, on a more cheerful subject, although still not without someone dying,” Nadami said, looking at Fenris. “Up for another slaver arse whooping?”

“Always.”

“We’d need to go to Rialto.”

In his mind’s eye, Fenris brought up the map of Antiva. Another coastal city. “When?”

“I am going to get in touch with a contact, then gather more information. Soon.”

“You enjoy this,” Zevran noted. She gave him a look of surprise. “You do,” he insisted.

“Well,” she began slowly. “I get to kill bad guys and get paid better than before.”

The Antivan’s naughty smirk was a clear indicator that he didn’t buy it. He didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t either, even though at first she opened her mouth to protest more.


	32. Chapter 32

Eeyo shook his arms to relax them a bit. He probably needed some rest, but refused to waste time. Trainer Nuncio gave him three hours every evening, and he was not going to sit and rest now. He could rest after his three hours were up. Besides, he rather enjoyed the ache in his muscles. He felt like he was achieving something, like it was progress, like he was on his way to develop muscular arms like Zevran’s. It’s been only a few weeks since he’d arrived here, so he didn’t expect anything particularly visible yet, but he could be patient. He picked up the bow – he was still bitter that he had to leave his behind in Zevran’s house and had to use this random, unbalanced sorry excuse for a bow – and stretched the string. He let it go, and listened to the silence of the arrow reaching its target. Still not satisfied with the result, he took another arrow and tried to compensate for his mistake in the trajectory prediction. Better now. Still not the bull’s eye, though.

He was just about to let go of the bowstring, when a noise from inside caught his attention. Something was happening in the house. Strange. It was generally past the sleep time, and all other kids had to be in beds by now. He, as the oldest one, was allowed to practise, but that was an exception.

Suddenly the door opened with a loud bang, and Trainer Nuncio appeared, running outside.

“Eeyo! Run! Run! Warn Zevran!” he yelled, then fell on his face. Three arrows and one knife stuck in his back.

For a second, the elf was frozen by the sight. Screaming – Atala’s, he realised with a dread as he recognised the girl’s voice – prompted him to move. At first he wanted to ran inside and help the other kids, but the scream was abruptly cut short, and he knew what that meant.

Someone attacked the training facility, and was now slaughtering the young Arainai recruits. An arrow landing by his feet was the last cue he needed to be encouraged to action. He ran to hide in shadows by the tall wall while more arrows chased him. Not without satisfaction he thought their archer sucked, and Eeyo would never miss this much. He tried to spot where the arrows came from, but as soon as he effectively hid from the assassin, the barrage stopped. A poor shot, but not that stupid. Now the most important thing was to reach Zevran.

By now he already knew the compound like the back of his hand, including all exits, so he relatively safely managed to escape the building. On his way out he spotted one of the attacker’s face, but the man was a stranger. Eeyo fought the temptation of shooting him – it would give away his position – and still hiding in shadows ran toward Zevran’s house.

As soon as he arrived he knew he was too late. The main gate was rammed open and smashed. There was shouting coming from the house but it wasn’t pain or dying. Just people calling each other. Not certain what to do, he climbed the apple tree that grew in the garden, and tried to look inside the house to see what was going on. He dreaded seeing dead bodies of Zevran or Fenris, but to his relief the only bodies laying around were of people in cloaks and other nondescript garments.

There was some movement in the garden. Someone was walking away from the kitchen door toward the gazebo. Eeyo took an arrow from his quiver and was placing it at his bow when the man fell face down to the ground with an arrow in his back. The young Crow looked at the most possible place the arrow could have come from and saw a shape against dark night sky. Small stature and long hair immediately identified the shape as Zevran. Eeyo breathed the relief. Then wondered if there was a way to notify the other elf of his presence. He couldn’t think of anything else than picking up the invaders one by one. The already drawn arrow soon found its home in a chest of a woman who was in the house. Someone ran to her, then looked toward the window. Eeyo wondered if the man could see him in the tree, but it didn’t matter much. The piss poor assassin ended up with an arrow in his throat. The elf aimed for the chest but that was even better.

He looked through other windows, trying to see if he could pick up more. Fortunately, in hot Antiva windows were rarely closed, so he had a chance to eliminate one more. He had to waste two arrows on her, because the first one hit her shoulder. He was now down to three missiles. He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t waste them.

The house was quiet now. Eeyo waited, wondering what now. He couldn’t see Zevran on the roof any more, and he still had yet to see the Tevinter. He prayed it didn’t mean the worst. From the corner of the eye he saw movement in one of the windows. He reached for another arrow but a moment later his hand lowered empty. It was Zevran. He walked slowly, looking down at bodies. He stopped by the last victim Eeyo had shot and looked around. The young elf didn’t want to shout, so he climbed down the tree and ran into the house. When he entered the room the other elf had been in, it was empty.

In case Zevran had hidden hearing his steps, he said into the emptiness, “It’s me.”

The other one came out from a cupboard with a dagger in his hand. He sheathed it. “What are you doing here?” he asked, while Eeyo ran to him and hugged him.

“They attacked the recruits too. Everybody dead. Even the youngest kids.” He looked at Zevran’s face, and saw an expression he’d never seen before: fury and hatred. “Where is Fenris?” he asked, fearing the answer.

“They left for Rialto in the morning.”

“They?” he asked. “Nadami returned?!” Zevran nodded with a smile that brightened his face. The relief and happiness Eeyo felt was quickly replaced by more current anger. “Someone planned it,” he said.

Zevran nodded. “Agreed. Waited for both of them to leave and attacked me when I was alone.”

“But… who?”

“I don’t know. Yet.” He looked around. “Let’s clean this up. I don’t want Shannie to deal with a house of dead bodies again. Dump them by the gazebo for now.”

Eeyo nodded. He pulled his arrows out of the assassin’s body, then placed them back in his quiver. He grabbed her leg, and pulled toward the exit.

There were seven bodies total that he’d found and ‘cleaned’. Seven assassins didn’t manage to get Zevran down. Eeyo hoped to be as great as him some day. Speaking of which, where was Zevran? The Dalish set off to look for the other elf, and finally found him at the back of the house, standing over another body with a bow in his hand. He ran to him. Then also stopped when he realised whose body it was. Shannie. His eyes filled with tears. She had been good to him in the short time he’d spent in this house. She had been nice.

She had several stab wounds.

Eventually Zevran realised Eeyo was standing by him. He handed the younger elf the bow; it was Eeyo’s own weapon with crows carved on it.

“They’ll pay for it,” the Antivan said coldly. “Pay for it dearly.”

“They will.”

Zevran seemed to shake off his grimness and anger. “Tomorrow morning you’ll follow Fenris and Nadami, and bring them back,” he said in his more usual tone of voice. “They’re on their way to Rialto, and there is only one road to get there. Tell them what happened. You will need to move fast and rest little to catch up with them.”

“Why tomorrow? Why not now?”

“Now I want you to go to Shannie’s family and ask them what they want to do with her body. Do they want her back, or leave it to me?”

“I can do that, and then go to get them. They already have many hours ahead of me.”

“You must be tired.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Zevran watched him for a while, then nodded. “Have it your way. Be careful.”

Eeyo dropped the practice bow on the ground and balanced his in his hand. “I will be. Just need more arrows.”

The Antivan grabbed him by his shoulders, and looked into his eyes. “This is serious, Eeyo. Dangerous, yes? Not a joke.”

“I know,” the young elf replied, looking at Shannie’s body. “I won’t fail you.”

“Go!”

 

* * *

 

With a heavy sigh, Zevran started searching through the bodies. He checked pockets, pouches, weapons, trying to find out who had hired them. They were no Crows, that he could tell. Whoever had taken that contract on him, they didn’t want to be identified, and had hired regular thugs to do the job. He snorted with derision. He had dismantled one house of the Antivan Crows almost single-handedly, and someone thought that they could take him down with regular clumsy criminals? He found that almost offensive.

On the other hand, it could only be a test ride. Arrow fodder to check his defences, and prepare the real attack.

To his disappointment, he found nothing useful on any of the bodies. He still had no idea whose work it was.

He leant over a body with a hole in his neck. It was one of those shot by Eeyo. The thug had an earring, and now Zevran removed it. The young Crow deserved his little trophy. The Antivan felt a bit guilty for sending him to Shannie’s family; bringing such news wasn’t an easy task, but he could not go himself right now. Too much to do. Then he thought of Eeyo’s cool head, composure, and self-discipline. He was proud of him. While he still needed practice with the bow, he already had what it took to be a successful Crow.

He wondered what was the situation with the other Arainai Crows. Scattered in their dwellings all over Antiva City, they couldn’t all be attacked at the same time. Also, what would be the point. Leaving them alive and absorbing – or keeping after taking over – made a lot more sense.

The recruits were a different matter. The mind behind it had to assume they were already trained in their loyalty and too young to choose and switch, or it was a statement for Zevran: ‘I got your young, you have no next generation’. The latter seemed more possible.

He rubbed his face. Such a waste of innocents. Also, where were their executors? On their way here? Done and gone? Reporting to their lords?

Eeyo returned with two elves. “They will bury her in their family grave,” he informed Zevran, while the other two wrapped her body for transport. One gave Zevran a stinky eye.

“If there is anything–” the Antivan began.

“You’ve done enough,” the angry one barked. He picker her up, and carried out in his arms.

The other one looked at him. “She was proud to work for the Crows, even if the previous master terrified her. She really liked working for you.” By the familiarity, Zevran guessed he was her brother or cousin. The elf turned away and left.

“Rest some, then take food for the road, maybe some coin you may need, and go,” the Antivan told Eeyo.

The Dalish nodded. “I don’t need rest. I feel pumped.” He bounced on his heels.

“Here.” Zevran opened his hand with the earring on it. “It’s yours, my young friend. It belonged to the guy you expertly silenced with your arrow.”

Eeyo took it gently into his fingers. “Nice.” It was gold, round, with a fine gold feather dangling from it. He neared it to his right ear. “How does it look?”

“Very handsome.”

“Can you pierce my ear?”

“You sure?” The Dalish only smiled. “Come.” They went upstairs, where Zevran kept all his tattoo needles and other things. The Antivan opened his box of tools, looked at the content for a moment, then picked something up. “I never knew what to do with this one,” he said. He was holding another earring; a simpler one, round, gold. “I never dared to give it to Fenris. His body was subjected to enough painful procedures to suggest another one.”

“I like it.”

“Both?”

Eeyo nodded, and turned his head to expose his right ear. He raked his brown hair aside, so that it wouldn’t interfere, and just waited.

“It is a bit painful,” Zevran warned.

“Just do it!”

He tried to be brave, but winced a couple of times. Not that it made the Antivan think any less of him; it was a painful procedure. After he was done, he applied an ointment, then gave some to the other elf. “Use it often. It should prevent infections, speed up healing, and ease the discomfort. Also, move the earrings around a bit, so that they don’t get stuck.” He watched the tip of Eeyo’s ear go red. “Feels hot now, yes?”

“Uhm.”

“It’ll pass. You’re good to go.”

“Awesome. Off to Rialto!”

  


“You sure you don’t want to rest first?”

“Yuppers.”

“Fine. I trust you know your limits, and will act responsibly, yes?”

“Don’t stay here, it’s not safe.”

“Don’t worry about me. When you’re all back, come here first. If I’m not here, find a place to stay, and then come to the bidding house.” He squinted his eyes. “If they think they can just chase me away, they’re wrong. I’m still the guildmaster, even if my whole house is dead.”

“What about Thiago and the others?”

“I intend to find out.”

Soon Eeyo was on his way, and Zevran hoped he hadn’t just sent the only fellow Crow he trusted to his death.

He extinguished all fires in the house, leaving it dark and empty, then set off for the recruit centre. He didn’t know what he expected to find there. Bodies of the children, for sure, but hopefully the trainers had managed to take someone down too. Maybe the mob that had been sent to kill the kids wasn’t as careful with the proof of identification.

The place was quiet and smelled like death. Faint light of dying candles added horror to the general atmosphere. Zevran never liked hurting innocents. It happened, but he tried to avoid that as much as possible. This… this had been planned. They hadn’t spared even the youngest.

Finally he found two bodies of strangers. The unpleasant search began, but again without results. He was so frustrated he felt like torching the whole place, but knew it was unreasonable.

Apparently, his times as an assassin assassinating other assassins was not over yet, yes? They wanted a war, they would get a war!


	33. Chapter 33

Fenris wondered if all slaver ships looked the same. In fairness, he’d seen two so far, but they were identical. He sneaked in, and somehow got onto the lower deck. His sword was gone. He didn’t remember leaving it behind. Had he left it on the deck again?

It was dark here. Felt cold and empty. No, not empty. It couldn’t be empty. There had to be people here; elves he’d come to free. But it was empty. A trap? Why wasn’t there any fight? It was empty? It was a trap?

He heard a sound. A familiar sound that made his skin crawl. He’d heard that sound so many times before. Fabric shifting, flowing. He flared up. Why? He didn’t want to. His heart was beating fast. His glow did not give any light. It was still dark around him. Even his own light wasn’t an escape from the murkiness of the lower deck.

This sound!

“Ah, my little wolf,” a voice said behind him. He tried to move to face that hateful voice but he couldn’t. His hands were heavy, like pulled toward the deck by something cold and weighty. He tried to turn his head, craning it toward the loud breath behind him.

He was getting closer, and Fenris still couldn’t move. Couldn’t even turn to face him, to see what he would do to him, to spit in his face. The elf felt hands on his arms. He shuddered. He thought he’d never be touched by him again. The vile feeling of those hands on his body made him gag.

“Now you will do what I tell you to do. Kill her.”

Fenris shook his head. “Never!”

“Kill her!”

The grasp on his arms felt stronger, more oppressive. The hands shook him.

“Fenris!” This wasn’t Danarius’s voice. It belonged to a woman. The woman he had just been ordered to kill. He tried to rip his arms out of the hateful hold. “Fenris!”

He opened his eyes. Nadami was leaning over him, worry on her face, trying to wake him up. He sat up and shrugged her hands off his arms. She moved away to give him space, but watched him carefully, concern still painted all over her face.

He tried to calm his breath, waited for his heart to slow down, but he couldn’t. He felt alone. He looked at her. He stretched his arms toward her, and within a second she was right by his side, pulling his head to her chest, and shushing him gently, while stroking his hair. He wrapped his hands around her, and sought comfort in her embrace. Curled up on her lap, he slowly calmed down.

Not knowing when he’d fallen asleep, he woke up when the sky was already getting brighter. He felt gentle touch of Nadami’s arm on his waist. She slept behind him, semi-spooning him not to cause discomfort by too much body contact. She always bounced between being too careful with her touch and very enveloping with it. Her hair tingled the back of his neck. He tried to sit up without waking her, but was not successful. When he looked at her face, he realised she hadn’t been sleeping for at least a while now.

“You all right?” she simply asked him.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

“Shhhh.” She put a finger on his lips. “Don’t. No need.”

“We needed a good rest before today’s march. I–”

“Don’t.” She sat up. “I am rested.” She neared her face to his. For a long while she looked into his eyes. Then she placed a peck on his cheek, and stood up. “Hungry?”

“Not really. But...” He started searching for water. He found it finally, and took a good sip.

Soon they were back on the road. She gently slid her hand into his. He looked at her, and she smiled at him. He knew what it meant: ‘if you want to talk, talk; if you don’t, we walk in silence’. He appreciated her offer and understanding. He didn’t feel like mulling over the same thing again. Her willingness of giving her comfort and support not for the price of his telling her what he’d dreamt about was refreshing. Most of people seemed to like, to want to hear his stories, as if his past was some kind of entertainment. Simultaneously, others called him single-minded and obsessed about one thing. But she wasn’t like that. Sometimes he wondered if she was somehow attuned to his feelings. So often she did what he needed, as if she could read his mind, his heart, and give him what was necessary for his sanity.

He let go off her hand, and she took it away, grabbed the backpack’s strap, and kept walking. As he’d hoped – as he’d expected – she wasn’t offended by his lack of need of physical contact right now. She was there for him if he needed it, but it was also all right if he didn’t.

He loved her so much.

The sun was already quite high, when Nadami slowed down, and squinted into the distance. “Is that...?” she didn’t finish her question.

Fenris looked ahead. There was someone on the road, running toward them. A small, thin figure, an elf most likely and seemed like with a bow on his or her back. His.

“Eeyo!” he exclaimed surprised.

His brown ponytail bounced, as the young elf jogged toward them. He waved at them, when he realised they’d noticed him, then ran faster. They looked at each other with the same question: what was he doing here?

“Uuuuuu,” he stopped in front of them, leant his hands on his knees, and panted, trying to catch his breath.

“Eeyo, where did you come from?” Nadami asked.

“You need to return to Antiva City,” he said when he could finally speak again. “Immediately.”

“We can’t, we have a task to do,” Fenris said. “How did you get here? Weren’t you in the Crow training facility?”

“Look, I will explain everything I know, but you must now trust me and go with me.”

Fenris and Nadami looked at each other, then at Eeyo. “Lead the way,” she said.

The Dalish started walking to where he’d come from. “Isn’t Antiva City behind us?” Fenris jabbed his thumb over his shoulder pointing behind him.

“It is, but we have transportation faster than walking.”

As they walked, Eeyo explained what had happened to the Crow recruits and at Zevran’s place. Fenris wasn’t even aware they had hastened their pace somehow until his feet started to hurt.

As it turned out, the Dalish had paid a fisherman to get him here on his boat to catch up with them, and also to take them back. It was a good plan… if not for the smell of fish!

 

* * *

 

The candles were lit in the house; it was bright inside. They went in, but very quickly it became obvious something was wrong. Zevran’s muffled by walls voice came from somewhere. Nadami couldn’t make the words, but the tone was clearly mocking. They followed the sound, which as they closed in was joined by another: puffs of something soft being hit.

The view boiled her blood. A man on the left was holding Zevran pinned to the floor by his shoulders, while another was sitting on him, punching his face. She rushed to them, and so did Fenris next to her. She took care of the holder, since he was on the left side, while the Tevinter tackled the other one to the floor, then with a swift move broke his neck, while Nadami cut open her invader. After making sure he was dead, she crawled back to Zevran.

An involuntary quiet squeal left her throat, as she looked at his face. He probably couldn’t see much with his left eye, because it was covered by blood and swollen tissue around it. His right eye looked at her, and closed with relief. He tried to smile but winced with pain, because his lower lip was split. Eeyo handed her a damp cloth, so she started to wash blood off his face.

“I’ll check the rest of the house,” Fenris growled.

Zevran raised his hand, trying to reach her cheek, and she was just about to kiss the inside of his palm to comfort him, when she saw a cut there. She curled up his fingers to close the cut a bit and told Eeyo to find bandages.

“I knew they should quickly kill me,” Zevran whispered.

“They almost did,” she replied. She was not in the mood for joking.

“They wanted to have fun with me first.”

“Stop talking.”

“Can I think? Naughty things?”

“Only if I’m there,” she murmured in the most sultry voice she could muster. Not that she was particularly good at that.

Apparently, her efforts were sufficient, because he smiled slightly, and closed his eyes again.

Fenris returned from his house tour. “Two bodies upstairs, one more in the corridor.”

They’d sent 5.

Eeyo returned, and handed Nadami bandages. “I’ll search them. Maybe I’ll find something,” he said, went to one of the dead in the room, and started checking his pockets.

After she took care of the most severe of Zevran’s wounds, Fenris gently picked him up and seated him in a soft armchair in which he liked to read.

The Antivan seemed to fall asleep. The others joined Eeyo in searching, then took the bodies outside. Nadami had an unpleasant flashback to teenage years, seeing Zevran’s blood on the floor in the main room. She fought the urge of cleaning it right now; it was not the time. But the need of revenge on whoever had arranged it was as strong as the thirst of punishing her father for beating her mother to death. The fact that Zevran almost shared the same fate infuriated her.

“Did you find anything?” Zevran asked when they all returned to the main room.

“I thought you were sleeping,” she said.

“Did you?”

None of them had.

“Where is Turo? Does he know about this?” Nadami asked.

“I don’t know,” Zev replied.

“He knows about everything. He’s got eyes and ears everywhere. He has to know something!” Why wasn’t he helping? She couldn’t understand.

“I didn’t ask.”

“For all his claims of care about the Crows stability, this is dragon poo!” Her anger grew. “He’d just sit and let one of the houses be obliterated!”

“Nadami...” Zevran said softly.

“No! He has to help. He can’t just sit on his hands and do nothing. I will go to him!”

“No.” She was almost out the door, when Zevran shouted, “Nadami!”

She stopped and looked at him. He was leaning forward in the chair, looking at her. His swollen face was a picture of pain. She ran to him, and knelt on one knee in front of him. “You rest,” she said gently.

“You will not ask him for help,” Zevran said firmly. “That’s an order.”

“Can you order me?” she tried to joke, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’m a guildmaster, and you’re just a baby Crow. You will do as I say.”

She put her hand on his healthy cheek. “Yes, master. But I want to ask if he knew. I want to ask why he didn’t choose to help. I want to know if he knows who is behind it. I want to know if it’s him.”

“Fine. Just make sure you don’t put us in his debt.”

“Understood.” She rose to her feet and looked at the other elves. “Take care of him. I’ll be back soon.”

Then she left. Her frantic steps betrayed the fury she felt.

 

* * *

 

Eeyo was gently applying ointment to Zevran’s wounds, while Fenris sat down at the table, wondering what their next move should be.

There was a piece of paper on the table. He picked it up.

“ _Fenfen, Dami – my loves,_

_I am not going to survive this night. I don’t have much to say. You both know what I would say, yes?_

_I love you. Take care of each other. You both are the brightest”_

There was no more. No more words, anyway. The paper was stained with drips of blood, some of them smeared. Fenris guessed they had dropped from Zevran’s wounded hand. Then he had to be interrupted, probably by the attack of the last two. Maybe that’s why they’d almost succeeded; his thoughts were on what to write to them, not directly on the immediate danger.

He heard loud, fast steps. Someone ran into the house. He stood up, flared up, and was ready to rip to shreds whatever piece of filth dared to enter. A man stopped in his tracks, once he saw Fenris moving towards him in quick, long strides.

“Fenfen, it’s all right,” Zevran said from his chair. The Tevinter stopped, and looked at him. “What did you find out?” the Antivan asked the newcomer.

The human shook his head. “Judging by the body’s decomposition, he’s been dead for a couple of days,” he replied.

Zevran’s lips thinned. “They got to him first,” he muttered. “Probably at the same time they attacked the children.”

“Who?” Fenris asked. He relaxed, and returned to the table.

“Thiago,” the human replied. Then looked at Zev. “From what I can tell, everyone else is fine. I wasn’t approached or attacked by anyone. Not yet, at least. They’re after you mostly.”

“And the kids,” Eeyo reminded him grimly.

“Indeed.”

“Go home, Rafa. And be careful.”

The Crow approached his boss, and crouched in front of him. “We’ll get them, master. And then I’ll take the most daring contract you can secure, complete it, and prove them we don’t need to be big to be strong. I promise you that.”

 

* * *

 

Nadami’s furious fists banged on the door. The sound appeared unusually loud in the silence of the night. Good. Wake half the city up. She hit the door with her fists again. She heard shifting on the other side. She banged again. “Open up!” she yelled.

Finally the door opened. She pushed it to open it wide, and saw a scared elven servant. “Where is he?” she demanded. “Where is Turo?!”

“Asleep.”

“Where is his bedroom?”

“Upstairs. Second door on the left.”

Nadami went pass the servant, and headed for the bedroom. This time she didn’t bother knocking. She just opened it with such force it bounced off the wall. She clearly interrupted hot moments, but she didn’t give a damn. She picked up a random piece of clothing from the floor, and threw it at the nude girl moaning and bumping on Turo’s hips. “Get out!” she hissed.

Startled, the girl grabbed her garments, and quickly left the room.

Turo was not impressed. He wrapped himself in some sort of gown, got up, then looked at her annoyed. “It better be good,” he said.

“Do you know Arainai is being raided? Not just Zevran, but also his kids?”

“This is not news. You also know there is a contract on his head.”

“ _His_ head. All his recruits were slaughtered! He’s been under constant attack for the past two days!”

The man crossed his arms on his chest, and looked at her defiantly. He knew all along what was happening. She thought she’d explode. “Why didn’t you do anything?!”

“He didn’t ask for help.”

“He’d have to ask?”

“I’m not charity.”

“Is this a game for you?”

Turo leant toward her and said very seriously, “It’s always a game. It’s always a struggle for power. If Zevran sent you to ask for my help, he’ll get it.”

She started to understand. “But not as a free favour.” He only smiled. “Do you know who’s behind it? Is that you?”

“It’s not me.”

She wondered if he knew, but didn’t dare to ask now. He could treat that detail as a part of a deal too, and Zevran had made it very clear: he did not want to be in Turo’s debt. Even if it cost him his life.

“For all the talk about the House of Crows stability, for all your political ambition, you’d still let everything be ripped, just so that you could assert your superiority,” she said with contempt.

“I think you outstayed your welcome, Nadami. It’s late. I trust you know your way out.” He paused. “Unless you have a request to make.”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Don’t forget I helped to get my own father killed, because I was mad at him,” she threatened, then turned and left.

As angry as she was, she was also glad they now knew exactly how far Turo’s care went.

Not that far after all.

 

* * *

 

Zevran woke up, feeling like every bone in his body was broken. Every muscle ached. His head felt heavy, but he could open his left eye a bit more, so the swollen pillow that served as half of his face seemed to have lost some puffiness.

He was alone in the bed. He knew they both had slept here, not only from the indentations their bodies left behind, but also from remembering the warmth of their bodies, as they both had held him in their arms. Nadami on one side, Fenris on the other. Trapped in a cage of affection. He smiled at the thought of how safe it’d made him feel.

He got up and went downstairs. Dragged himself downstairs would probably be a better description.

“Yeah!” he heard Eeyo’s cheerful voice from outside.

Fenris was at the table, reading something, while Nadami was on her knees, trying to clean a red stain from the floor. His blood. They both looked up at him when he entered. They both rose to their feet to help him, but he waved them away. “Don’t fawn over me.” Fenris sat back down, but Nadami was a stubborn one. She went to him and gave him a gentle hug. “What’s Eeyo shouting about?” Zevran asked, and went to look out of the window.

The young elf was walking away from a makeshift target. Dancing away would be a more appropriate word. With a bow in his hand, and an arrow in the other one. Practising, Zevran guessed. A moment later the Dalish shot another arrow, and it landed right in the middle of the target. “Yeah! Woohoo!”

Zevran smiled, then sat at the table.

“Hungry?” Nadami asked him. “Eeyo made breakfast. I have no idea where he gets his energy from.”

“Youth,” Fenris mumbled not taking his eyes from his book.

Zevran nodded at her, so she left to the kitchen.

Eeyo entered the room with Turo at his heel. “Master, you have a guest,” he announced officially, amusing Zevran.

“I’d like to talk to you,” Cabrero said. “Alone,” he emphasised.

Fenris looked at Zevran, and upon receiving a nod, closed his book, and left the room. Nadami put the food in front of the Antivan, and also promptly left. Eeyo stood by the door like a guard, and crossed his arms. Zevran gave him a sign to leave too. The Dalish gave Turo a frown, then reluctantly returned to the garden.

“You want something, yes?” the elf asked his guest.

“It’s more of a matter what you want,” he replied.

Zevran suspected Turo was going to offer his help for a price. “I want something from you?”

“Nadami.”

That was not what the Antivan expected. “Nadami,” he repeated, not certain when the human was going with it.

“Her loyalty is very clear, and in the current mess, I think this should be straightened before it gets too complicated.”

There was more to it, Zevran was sure. “She runs your contracts, taking share of your earnings, but stays with me.”

“Up until now it didn’t matter much. You are her lover. Who she sleeps with after work is of no concern to anyone. But this...” He gestured around. “This is a complication.”

“What do you think could happen?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care to discover.”

“You have a solution, yes?”

“A hundred fifty sovereigns or this house.”

“This house is worth a lot more than a hundred and fifty sovereigns,” Zevran pointed out. Then he realised what Turo’s words meant.

“You don’t have that kind of coin, so I offer you a different form of payment.” He paused. “You don’t have to decide now. I’ll give you three days. If you decide not to take the offer, however, I will not tolerate any loyalty splits. She’s Cabrero, and I will expect her to be one full time. You can still sleep with her, but her heart and mind are mine.” He leant on the table, hovering over sitting Antivan. “I trust my terms are clear.”

“Like a sunny day.”

“Three days.”

Turo left. Eeyo had to see him walking out, because he was back in the room soon after. “What did he want?” he asked.

“Call Nadami and Fenris first.”

They all gathered, and Zevran explained. “Turo came with an offer. He’ll sell Nadami to my House for a hundred fifty sovereigns. Alternatively, he’d take this house, since he knows I’m poor like a nug.”

“This house isn’t even really yours,” Fenris pointed out.

“The owner is dead. No one else to claim it, as far as we know.”

“Even if there is, it’d be Turo’s problem. But this house is surely more valuable than a pouch of sovereigns,” Nadami said.

Eeyo spread his hands with astonishment. “Excuse me, but I don’t understand why there’s a discussion here.”

“If I don’t buy her, she can’t be here, can’t be with me, can’t fight for me. She is owned by Cabrero,” Zevran added. “Turo made it very clear.”

“Why? Are? We? Debating? This?!” the Dalish asked slower and louder.

Fenris looked at him, and then back at Zevran. “We can live anywhere. In a tent outside the city in dirt. But there is only one Nadami.”

The Antivan looked at her. “This is about you.”

“I appreciate you’re asking me, but you also already know the answer. I can’t ask you to part with this house, or with coin you don’t have, or go into debts to collect it. But you know what I want.”

Zevran’s answer came without missing a second for thinking. “Take anything of value. He didn’t say anything about what the house contained, just the house itself. Make priority for items that can be easily sold.”

Nadami went to the bucket that stood next to the red blood stain. She kicked it, and knocked it over, spilling the soapy water all around. “I will not live in a house which has my loved one’s blood on the floor,” she declared. “Not then, not now.”

Zevran smiled at her. His split lip at once reminded him why he shouldn’t do that, but her cheerful face made it worth the pain. Her almond-shaped eyes shone like sun, and her freckles seemed to be darker from excitement. She looked so beautiful when she was so happy.

The Antivan knew he’d have to be a lot more frequent guest in the bidding house now. With no permanent address – at least temporarily – he had to actively make himself informed and available for contracts. He wasn’t even sure he could share that responsibility with any of the surviving Crows. He needed something daring, something good, something that’d tell everyone – especially whoever had ordered and taken the contract on his head – that he was far from done and defeated.


	34. Chapter 34

As much as Fenris was looking forward to slaver arse whooping, he eventually agreed he was the best choice to protect Zevran, while Nadami and Eeyo returned to Rialto to finish the last contract she ran for the House Cabrero.

Zevran put some faith in Rafa and Sosimo, who for the time being were his ears and eyes in the guild betting house. They were also the only ones who knew their master’s exact location. Fenris was still on guard all the time, just in case, but if the Crows were careful enough – and loyal – their little camp just outside Antiva City should be a safe place.

After dealing with business, Zevran spent most of the remaining day sleeping. Fenris tried to make sure the Antivan was comfortable, then sat next to him with a book.

“Fenris… Fenris...” Zevran woke up on his right side, protecting his healing face from pressure, facing away from the other elf.

“I’m here,” the Tevinter put away the book, and moved closer to the Antivan. He raked aside his blond hair, and placed a gentle kiss on his ear.

Zevran turned on his back and looked at Fenris. He pulled his head closer, and their lips met. Fen tried to steer clear off still swollen eye and cheek with his affection, so he travelled lower, to Zevran’s neck.

“I like your healing method,” the Antivan mumbled.

“I have to be careful. You could start bleeding all over my clothes. They’re my favourite clothes.”

“Mmm? I hope you take them off soon.”

“Just don’t move.”

“Not sure I can comply.”

“Or I’m stopping now.”

“Not fair, mi amor.”

Fenris couldn’t say that Zevran didn’t try to be passive, as unnatural as it was for him. The Antivan let the other elf find each tiny bruise currently present on his skin, explore every old scar, and shower them with gentle, sensual kissing, licking and caressing.

When Zevran was finally relaxed to Fenris’s satisfaction, the Tevinter placed himself next to him, and took him in his arms making sure no sensitive bruise or cut was being pressed or otherwise irritated. Again, the Antivan fell asleep quite quickly, only emphasising how stressful and sleepless the last few days had been for him.

Around midday, Fenris woke Zevran up to make him eat something. He wasn’t much of a cook, but the Antivan was hungry and didn’t complain.

“It’s going to rain soon,” the tall elf noted, looking at the sky. “What are we going to do?” he asked, looking at the small tent.

“Bathe.”

“Joke all you want, but we can’t stay camping in rain. Why did we choose Nadami over a dry home again?”

“She’s got breasts.”

“Why am I here with you instead of with her breasts, then?”

“I am a good kisser.”

Fenris laughed. “But seriously, any ideas?”

“Disassemble the tent.”

While eating, Zevran instructed Fenris how to make hammocks and create a cover to protect them from the rain. The Tevinter wasn’t convinced it was the best accommodation but it would have to do for now. Antivan rains lasted for days, if not weeks sometimes, so they needed some kind of solution. He didn’t expect them to stay here that long, but even one hour sitting in a tent on wet ground wouldn’t be a pleasant experience.

He packed Zevran into a hammock, then – grumbling under his breath – cleaned up most of the camp and hid it under the makeshift roof, hanging it on a branch.

The rain didn’t last long but they decided not to undo the hammocks. The ground was still dump, and the weather could get worse any minute. They didn’t need to scramble in rain in the middle of the night.

Not without trouble and not without sacrificing a few pages from Fenris’s book, they managed to start a small fire. The evening was pleasant, so they didn’t seek heat, but light and warm food were welcome. Fenris changed the bandages on Zevran’s hand and leg, then sat next to him.

“There is something…” The Antivan searched his backpack.

The other elf waited patiently, wondering what it was about. He watched his lover frantically check the content of his bags, cursing silently under his breath. Was it that important? Had he lost it? Then his attention was drawn away to the flowing blond hair, and he felt an urge to touch it. He gently caressed the silkiness flowing over Zevran’s shoulders. His hair was so long now; he hadn’t cut it for quite a while.

Finally, the Antivan laughed victoriously. Then he pushed the backpack away, sat closer to his lover, and looked at him.

“What is it?” Fenris asked.

Zevran wrapped a gold chain around the other elf’s wrist, then fastened it. It was fine, thin, and so delicate the Tevinter barely felt its touch. He gave Zev an asking look.

“I want you to have it. Just take it. I _need_ you to have it. Take it, yes? No need to wear it, but take it. Keep it.”

The bracelet was beautiful but Fenris knew it wasn’t about its appearance. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t reading into it more than it meant, but the look in Zevran’s big honey-coloured eyes told him he wasn’t. “There was a time, when I thought being with one person was too much, that I couldn’t handle it. Now… now it feels… feels like one is not enough.” That sounded wrong. It’s not what he meant. “I… no, I don’t say you’re not enough. You’re… everything, it’s just…”

Zevran put his hand on Fenris’s cheek. “I understand. Everything, but incomplete. A piece is missing, no?”

“One used to be too much. Now I’m hungry for two.” He touched the bracelet. “I’ll keep it. Forever.”

Zevran smiled. There was so much affection in his smile, so much intensity in his eyes that Fenris wasn’t even sure he deserved any of this. Not the first time he caught himself thinking that in spite of all terrible things that were happening, all nasty stuff that had happened to them, matters didn’t seem bleak and hopeless. With Zevran, with Dami, with stubborn young Eeyo around…

He looked at the bracelet. It was so delicate he could lose it. “I’ll keep it with the ring from Nadami,” he told Zevran. “I don’t want it torn off my hand in combat.”

The Antivan, without a word, helped him take it off. Fenris closed his palm around the jewellery, then looked at Zev, and kissed him.

 

* * *

  
“This is strange,” Eeyo said.

“What?” Nadami asked him.

They were on their way back to Antiva City, and they’d stopped for the night. They’d squatted in a barn-like building filled with fish smell. Nadami could easily imagine Fenris’s grumpy voice complaining about the odour. Now they sat on dry hay, having an evening meal before going to sleep.

“I just… sorta… did my first job as a Crow, with being paid and stuff, and it’s not from my master,” Eeyo continued.

“You’re more of my hireling.”

“Yeah, I know, but still…”

“Well, looks like the next one will be the real deal.”

“Are you still called Cabrero or Arainai now?”

“Hmm,” she pondered the answer for a while. “I truly don’t know. I think I should ask Zevran. He makes decisions now.”

“It’s almost like you’re married to him now.”

“I don’t think Crows marry.”

“Eh, maybe not officially. But you know…”

“I don’t and neither do you!” she laughed.

“Tell me about your mum,” he suddenly changed the subject.

“My mum?”

“Uhm,” he nodded, taking bread out of his backpack. “I know your dad was an Antivan Crow, but you never speak of your mum.”

“She… We lived in seclusion. My father was always afraid he’d be found by the Crows – he had been twice before he finally decided not to try to settle in a village or a town – so he built a house in a middle of a forest, and… I had no friends, I didn’t go to school, and my mother was my only friend, teacher, and company beside him.

“She was so beautiful. Her hair was black and shiny like silk. Very thick. Her skin so fair and perfect, no freckle in sight. But the most incredible were her eyes. I never saw anyone with such eyes.”

“Like yours?”

“No, hers were… narrower, dark, almost black. And the shape. I have some of it, but not that much. Most of my look is after my dad.”

“Do you know how they met?”

“She arrived in Antiva on a ship. She was exploring the city with her friends. I don’t know all the details, she never shared them. But soon they both ran away – she from her ship’s captain, and he from the Crows.”

“Did they ever regret?”

“I don’t know. Never told me that but I suppose it could also mean they regretted having me, and didn’t want to say it to my face.”

“Were you a happy family before… you know.”

“Not really.” Her mood darkened. “Maybe when I was little. But he couldn’t hold any job for long. He had a temper, so got himself in trouble a lot. What little he earned, he drowned in mead. And then drunk blamed her for our poverty.

“She grew vegetables behind the house. Lots of turnip. Some strange spices and herbs I only saw in our garden. We were almost self-sufficient, but now I understand because we had to, not chose to.”

“You never went to school?”

“No. Mum taught me to read, and calculus. She taught me to think. He taught me to fight. When I was little I liked that a lot. It felt like a game. As I got older and he started draining into me the importance of it, how it would some day save my life, how I could spot a Crow the moment I saw one… I knew it wasn’t a game any more but… He was great then. Funny. Demanding but not making it an insufferable chore. Not always…”

“This is the first time I see you smile when speaking about him,” Eeyo noted.

“Is it? I guess… he destroyed a lot when he murdered her, and I’ll never forgive him.”

“Do you ever regret you helped Zevran?”

She was quiet for a moment. “No,” she said after a while. “What I regret is that it had come to that.”

“Now you’re like him.” Her expression had to tell him exactly what she thought about this comparison, because he quickly clarified, “I mean, you’re a Crow too now.”

“This is so strange.”

“This is good, Nadami.”

“You’re nuts.”

“My reasons aside, you now work for and with a fantastic assassin. You can make more coin than before. You belong to something bigger than yourself.”

“Yeah, an organisation that happily kills other members of this ‘community’ if paid enough.”

“Perhaps. But it’s also an organisation with rules, with a specific honour code, with chances open to everyone. ‘Elves are good servants’ but elves can become masters here. ‘Women are too delicate to fight’ but women become assassins here. All your life you were taught the House of Crows was a bunch of guys after your father and you and your mother. I get it. But also, the first Crow you met. Was he all your father said he’d be? Deadly? Cunning? Set on his goal?” She nodded confirmation, already knowing where Eeyo was going with it. “And what did you do?”

“I helped him.”

He smiled. “That too, but it’s not what I meant. You fell in love with him.” She didn’t say anything. She’d never really put that to words when talking with Eeyo, but apparently it was clear enough for him to see it anyway. “And you still are,” he continued. “You admire his skills, you support his cause, you returned to Antiva with him and helped him take over one of Crow houses. And for a moment didn’t show a sign of wanting to leave and return to Ferelden.” He paused, munching on his bread. “And he’s still a Crow through and through. Always was. Always will be.”

“Your point?”

“This has its downside and upside. You seem to ignore the upside, and think only of the downside.”

“Look at you, being all philosopher!”

“Mock all you want, but it’s true.” He finished his bread. “And now you’ve been sold for a house. Essentially.”

“I’m kind of surprised Fenris didn’t flip out about that.”

“He’s a pragmatist… sometimes… when it suits him…”

She giggled.

She noticed Eeyo watched her for a moment, and expected him to say or ask something, but he didn’t.

 

* * *

 

For little coin they had – and Eeyo had managed to steal using the skill that had be taught to him during the Crow training – all they could rent was a tiny place in a garret. It wasn’t bad, though. Warm, quite bright during the day, and accessible by a narrow staircase that was easy to defend, unless someone was crazy enough to try to get in through windows sliding on a rope from the roof. But that also would be easy pickings for Zevran’s and Eeyo’s bows.

Now they sat in the tiny common room that had only three chairs at the table. While the adults sat on the chairs, Eeyo climbed the table, crossed his legs, and stayed there.

“I accepted something that is probably nearly as stupid as taking the contract on the Grey Wardens,” Zevran began. “The difference is, I didn’t think I’d complete that one. This? This I hope to get it done.”

“Why is it difficult?” Fenris asked.

“There is a merchant who stepped on too many toes. The bad thing is he knows that, so he fortified himself quite effectively. The good thing is that he pissed off so many people that the price for his head comes from three competing with him merchants, so it’s… handsome.”

“Can we do it?” Nadami asked.

“If we do it right.” Zevran paused for a moment. “He has a very soft spot for beautiful women,” he resumed, looking at Nadami.

“Cool,” she said. “Do you know any?”

Eeyo giggled, while Fenris gently poked her arm, smiling.

Zevran continued, “You could take his attention very effectively away from us, and also gain full access. I am not sure how true that is, but he has a reputation of paranoid, so a simple regular seduction to get alone with him could not work. You might need to go all the way.”

“Sleep with him,” she said directly what he meant.

“What is plan B?” Fenris asked.

“It’s more than possible,” Zevran confirmed her words.

“No!” Fenris barked. “What’s plan B?”

Everyone looked at him. Then the Antivan’s eyes returned to Nadami’s face. “I will not order you do it. It’s up to you.”

“No!” Fenris growled louder. “Out of the question!”

“I didn’t think you were so possessive,” Zevran smirked. “It’s just sex. She’s not going to fall in love with him.”

His words only seemed to rile the Tevinter up. “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t care! Jest all you want, but yes, I’m a jealous type. Plan B!”

“I would care,” Zevran said slowly, clearly offended by the insinuation, “but I also understand it’s just physical and for a particular purpose, and changes nothing between us.”

Fenris didn’t say anything but fury on his face told them all they needed to know. Both elves stared at each other, frowning, clearly angry. Eventually Zevran turned his eyes away and continued, “Plan B would require hiring more hands. It’s more prone to errors and failure due to possible mistakes. We’d need to take down his defences first, and probably fight our way to him.”

“Any chance for thinning his herd from distance?” Eeyo asked.

The Antivan nodded. “I count on that. It’d have to be co-ordinated well, because I’m sure guards with arrows in their heads wouldn’t go unnoticed for long.” He was silent for a moment, pondering something. “I have a vague idea how I want it to play out, but I need to see who we can opt to join us for this first.”

“I need to ask something.” Eeyo said. They all looked at him, while he watched them carefully for a while with squinted eyes, then eventually asked, pointing to each of them in turn in several cycles, “Are you three now… three of you… three… now three?”

Nadami looked at him for a short moment before answering. “Yes.”

Eeyo nodded with understanding. “I like Antiva,” he declared sighing. Zevran gave him an amused look, Nadami chuckled quietly, but Fenris laughed out loud and couldn’t stop for quite a while.

The Dalish only smiled. He was truly happy for them. Nadami had never said it in so many words, but he knew she loved Zevran since the day she’d met him, even though she hadn’t confirmed not long ago in their conversation – she also hadn’t denied. He also knew there was something between Zevran and Fenris; more than a simple friendship. And it looked like Fenris and Nadami also shared certain affection, fully confirmed by the elf’s reaction to Zevran’s suggestion just now. Eeyo had been afraid all those feelings would clash at some point, but now he saw he was right on all fronts but that there was no threat, which was a relief, because it meant no one would get hurt and leave. He was absolutely sure he didn’t want any of them go away. They were like a team, like one made of three parts. Or four.

“I...” Zevran began, then looked at Nadami and Eeyo, and corrected himself, “We also need to find a new safe house. I don’t trust the old place any more.”

“Zevran,” Fenris said slowly, thoughtfully looking at the other elf. “Have you thought about going into quality over quantity?”

The Antivan’s eyebrows frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Most of other Arainai assassins are dead, because you bested them all and killed them, including the head of the house and his masters. Your recruits are gone, and at least for now you really don’t have a place or opportunities to replace them. There are very few of you left.”

“Yeeeees,” Zevran said slowly. Eeyo wasn’t sure he waited for more or started to get Fenris’s point.

“Make your house exclusive. The best among the best. Small but exquisite. If someone wants specifically your Crows to do a job, they have to be prepared to pay accordingly for it.”

“I like it,” the Dalish said.

“So for now stick with people I have. Demand and expect more refined skills from them, yes?” The Antivan tapped his chin with his finger. “Then you go and train super warriors for me.”

Fenris only smirked.

“It is an idea, I must say,” Zevran nodded. “I like it,” he smiled widely.

“Also, Zevran,” Fenris added. “I want plan B from you too, should you find yourself facing a similar… tactical opportunity.”

“Ha ha ha! I hear you loud and clear, my dear warrior, loud and clear.”

“You better,” the other elf grumbled with a frown, but a small twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth betrayed his real mood.


	35. Chapter 35

When Eeyo was back from his practice, he found Zevran alone in their flat, sitting at the table, which was covered with all kinds of paper. When the young Crow entered, the Antivan whined dramatically, threw his hands up, then ‘fell’ on the table.

“It’s killing me!”

“You love it!” Eeyo countered, and sat down.

Zevran smirked at him, then became unexpectedly serious. He propped his cheek on his hand. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you for a while, Eeyo.”

“Okaaaay,” the Dalish said suspiciously. This sounded like trouble.

“Many years ago, when I was still a Crow before I was not a Crow before I was a Crow again,” Zevran began, making Eeyo giggle, “I was a part of a very big mission. A prince, eleventh to the throne, wanted the throne, and in order to achieve that, he needed to eliminate all other ten candidates who were in line before him.

“He also had very deep roots in the Crows. We… um… sometimes get royal bastards as recruits, and this time instead of removing him from the royal race, they gave him power to enhance his position. Due to those deep roots, he inherited a high position within his house, and could use it for his personal goal without anyone’s approval.”

“Wait, wait,” the young elf interrupted. “Wasn’t it that time when many houses co-operated? You were there too!”

Zevran smiled. “Yes, but that’s not the point of the story.”

“Then what is?” Eeyo didn’t expect the story to have a point at all.

The Antivan watched him for a long while. “The point is that he’d inherited what he had.”

The Dalish nodded, partially faking the understanding, because he still didn’t know why Zevran had brought the whole thing up. “He was a greedy one. Wanted the Crows, wanted the throne.”

Zevran silenced and again spend a few good moments just looking at Eeyo. “Before I make big plans, I want to ask you. You are ambitious, more so that I, I’m sure. You are smart, hard-working…”

“Wait, what are you saying?” The Dalish’s eyes opened wider.

“I don’t want to force you to anything. But some day…”

Eeyo’s thoughts raced. “But… I… I…” ‘I’m too young. Too inexperienced. An elf. New.’

“Hey, Painted Face, don’t panic!” Zevran poked his ear. “I don’t plan to retire yet. But we work together toward this, yes?”

“Yes!” Eeyo’s imagination filled with coin, a beautiful house, pretty furniture, a feeling of safety and power, as much wine for Fenris as he wanted…

“But for now…” The Antivan handed him a pile of small pieces of paper. “Go to all these people and ask if they want to help with the merchant. I want answers immediately.”

“Yes, master!” The Dalish took the slips, and ran outside, hopping over two steps of stairs at a time.

 

* * *

 

As usual, Fenris parked by the entrance to the bidding room, and watched the Crows do their business from his spot. Outsider. Nadami wondered if it was a statement, or he just didn’t like the crowd. He didn’t have to come with them, but still sometimes tagged along. Maybe curiosity.

Nadami sat next to Zevran at the table with Rafa on his other side. Eeyo stood behind Zevran’s right shoulder with his hands behind his back. He probably imagined he looked fierce, and if not his age he definitely would. Now, however, he made an impression of a dutiful student and errand boy.

The bidding and contract matters progressed as usual. She still caught a few disapproving glares from Cabrero assassins, but she didn’t care. In fact, she somewhat revelled in their anger, whatever was the cause of it. A daughter of a runaway Crow, had helped another elven runaway to take over a house he had almost annihilated, with Cabrero support to only ‘move’ to the other house. Some of them could see that as a betrayal, even though she had been essentially sold. She still hadn’t talked to Turo since the transaction, and he didn’t seem to pay much attention to her either.

Zevran and Rafa finished their business clearly satisfied. They took a few small, easy contracts to keep things going, while the Big Merchant Plan was still being cooked. The room started clearing out, when a newcomer appeared at the door.

He was alone. He stopped, and looked slowly around the whole room. Eventually his eyes landed on Zevran, but he moved on to others, then again returned to him. After that he slowly, with carefully measured steps, approached the elf.

As soon as he was in Fenris’s field of vision, the Tevinter – for the lack of a better word – bristled. Nadami thought that if he were a hedgehog, all his spikes would be up right now in self-defence ahead of an upcoming attack. Up to now he was leaning against the wall behind him with his hands loosely crossed in front of him, but when he saw the mysterious man, he bounced off, hunched forward, and looked like he was just about to flare up, reach for his sword, and cut the man’s head off from behind.

The human stopped in front of the table and looked down at Zevran. “You are Zevran Arainai,” he stated. Not asked, but stated. There was smugness in his voice, which made Nadami take an instant dislike of this man.

The Antivan leant back in his chair, put his feet on the table, and interwoven his fingers at the back of his head. A good move, she thought. Even if he stood up, the human would still tower over him, so his dismissive, relaxed seated pose denied the other one the dominance he’d tried to establish.

“I am.”

“I have a proposal for you, but will discuss it alone only.”

Mystery as such was nothing new or unusual. Some people didn’t want anyone to know who they wanted eliminated until the deed was done. In addition, the last thing anyone needed was to try to hire the Crows on someone’s head, and not be able to find anyone, who’d take the contract. Embarrassing and possibly deadly.

Rafa understood the cue immediately. After the approving nod from Zevran, he stood up and left. Nadami followed him a moment later with Eeyo on her heel. They both approached Fenris.

“What is it?” she asked him.

The elf’s nose wrinkled with contempt. “Can’t you see who he is?” he growled.

“A human man.”

“Tevinter magister,” Eeyo said.

Right; now she understood.

“What does he want?” Fenris asked.

“He wanted to talk to Zevran alone,” she explained. “Probably a contract.”

“And clearly to Zevran, and not just any Crow,” the young elf added.

She nodded. “Indeed.”

The tall elf snorted angrily, and headed out. The other two followed him. They could barely keep up with his long strides, while he didn’t seem to even be aware they were after him.

 

* * *

 

Zevran returned home to find Fenris pacing back and forth in the small room. He mumbled something under his breath, gesturing angrily. As soon as he saw the Antivan, he asked, “What did he want?”

“Sit down,” Zev replied calmly. “We need to discuss it in detail.”

Fenris cursed in Tevene, and stopped, but didn’t look like intending to sit. The other elf sat at the table, watched by the angry Tevinter.

“He wants to hire me to assassinate another magister.”

“Bah!”

No more came, so Zevran continued, “She is well entrenched, well situated, and sounds like a good challenge.”

The tall elf emitted “Hmpf,” followed by fuming mumbling in Tevene. A long string of curses, the Antivan guessed. Exasperated shaking of his head made Fenris’s hair flow, warming Zev’s heart by the shine in the white mane.

“I didn’t give him an answer yet.”

“You want to do it,” Fenris stated.

Zevran smiled. “For sport, if nothing else.”

“Bah!” Fenris threw his arms up, and started pacing again.

“Fenfen, I would like to take it, yes. It’s good for fun, for prestige, for coin.”

“Yes, yes, let’s have fun at the cost of some slaves we slaughter in the process, because they have no choice but to be there, but to shield their master, but to be sacrificed by their master in a blood magic ritual to strengthen her defences!” His voice was louder, angrier and rougher with each word.

Zevran shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Please, sit down. I’d like to discuss it.”

“There’s nothing to discuss!” Fenris leant his hands on the table, and glared down at the other elf, inclining his head slightly to a side. “This is vile!”

“I can do it, but only with you. You would be my advisor, my source of information, my insider. If you refuse, no deal.”

“Then tell him no deal, because you can’t count on me in this! This goes too far!”

“I would ask for all she owns as the payment. She disappears from the surface, she doesn’t need her possessions. It’s all mine.”

“I hope you enjoy your slaves!” The contempt on Fenris’s face stirred fury in Zevran’s heart.

“Who do you think I am!” he barked back, frowning.

The Tevinter shook his head, not saying a word.

“If we just kill her,” Zev continued, calmer, “he’d take all that’s hers. Even if we freed her slaves, he’d chase them as his property. But if I take them all, and let them go, it’s nobody’s business. We can help them, Fenris.” The other elf slowed down his pacing, and looked at Zevran, listening. “If you help me, if we plan this right, we could eliminate her cleanly, and still do what he wants us to do. But I need you for that. I need your deep knowledge of Tevinter, of magisters, of slaves and their lives. I can’t do it without you.” He stood up, and approached the other one. He took his face in his hands. “I don’t want to do it without you. I won’t do it against you.”

Fenris calmed down a little. “The possibilities,” he whispered.

Zevran smiled. “Endless.” He watched Fen’s eyes grew distant as his imagination went wild with the ideas. Then the green gems focused on Zevran’s face. “I think you owe me an apology for the ugly thing you said,” the Antivan pointed out.

Fenris pulled him closer and kissed. “I think you are right,” he said. “Do you think the other two will come aboard with this?”

“I am not sure.” Zevran pretended to think hard, tapping his chin with a finger. “Would Nadami want to free slaves? She did it all her life, so could be bored with it by now, yes? Would Eeyo? He barely escaped such fate, so why care about those who didn’t.”

“Oh, be quiet,” Fenris chuckled, realising the silliness of his question. He kissed him again, while Zevran wondered how he had ended up with a team of ‘free all slaves’ nut-nugs.

“Where are they anyway?”

The Tevinter smirked. “They went to eat something. Nadami said something about avoiding some cross elf who can’t be reasoned with. Any idea whom she meant?”

Zevran laughed. “No idea!”

 

* * *

 

Sweating from their extensive training, Fenris and Eeyo sat down. Each grabbed his bottle of water, and almost completely emptied it. It was still a very early morning, but the elves preferred this time of the day for their practice, because the heat of the day wasn’t in full force yet.

They were just outside the urban area in a spot they’d found not many days ago. It was on a hill, so they had a beautiful vista of the city while honing their skills and keeping fit. Fenris – to his surprise – liked teaching Eeyo. The young elf was eager, and even when he got frustrated, it was irritation at his own inability to be perfect rather than a complaint to Fenris for being too hard on him.

Now they sat shoulder to shoulder, facing the city’s panorama, resting before another set of exercises.

Fenris looked at the other elf. “Does it mean anything to you?” he asked, pointing at the _vallaslin_ on Eeyo’s face.

For a moment, there was no reply. Eventually the young elf said, “Yes.”

“So you believe in their gods now?”

“Our gods,” Eeyo corrected him.

“Ah, and you also became as arrogant as any other Dalish with their complex of superiority.”

His words were met by a smirk. “Mock all you want. You just don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. I did ask.”

“All right.” He put his empty bottle away. “I was raised with all the Maker talk you are familiar with, too. How he loves all his children, and blah blah blah. Did you feel loved with chains on your neck? Would I feel loved with chains on my neck? What did this loving Maker do for me?” His voice grew more cross as he spoke. “He gave _shems_ all they wanted. He took everything from us, replacing it by all the Chantry’s blah blah blah. Did you know we all used to have magic? Look at us now! Fractured, divided between those who live like humans but never have their respect, and those who struggle to have a home, and keep searching for the perhaps forever lost knowledge.”

“Did your gods give you anything?” Fenris asked, pointing at the _vallaslin_ again.

“Yes,” Eeyo replied, squinting his eyes. “A purpose. I’ll never be a true Dalish, because I grew up in a town. But I’ll also never be a true city elf, because I refuse to be half a person with half the rights. I’ll defend every elf from _shems_. I’ll defend my right to be treated equally.”

Anger was replaced by passion. Fenris thought that his reasoning was chaotic, that he was still searching for his way, that he was still discovering what he wanted to do with his life exactly, but he was also determined to find that way, to find clarity, to push forward, and never let anyone step on him.

“You seek freedom but you willingly gave yourself into the Crows,” he noted.

“Freedom… a true freedom is an illusion,” Eeyo replied. “Even Tevinter magisters, with all their power, are still slaves… sorry, pun not intended and certainly not meant as offensive,” he said, looking apologetically at Fenris, “are still subject to their need of more power, to be stronger than other magisters or perish. Their freedom is limited by their own greed.” He paused. “Mine is limited by society. So I’ll find my own place in that society, and get as much as I can. I will not let anyone spit on me, or call me ‘knife-ears’, or treat me as half-brain that is good only as a servant.”

There was a lot of rage hiding in Eeyo’s heart, Fenris noted. He thought of his own rage, and couldn’t help but wonder if every elf in Thedas felt some degree of it. Maybe even Zevran, somewhere deep in his cheerful soul.

The Dalish looked at him. “I know for you freedom has a more basic meaning,” he said. Then he looked at the city in the distance. “But maybe you aim too low, not I ask for too much.”

“Hmmmm.” Fenris had to admit this was something to ponder. There was a lot of wisdom hidden in that sixteen-year-old head. He ruffled his young friend’s hair. “Rested enough for more?”

“Bring it on!” Eeyo said cheerfully, raising to his feet.

 

* * *

 

Nadami entered the bedroom quietly, just in case one of her elves was still sleeping this late in the morning. She praised herself for good instincts: Zevran was quietly snoring on his back. One of his hands was on his chest, holding something, while the other one was stretched toward the side, as if he wanted to make sure whoever would join him would have to move it, and wake him up in the result.

She watched him for a moment. He looked serene and peaceful. His face, without the usual smirk or naughty glare, was perfectly beautiful in its innocence. His hair, spilled all over the pillow, looked like a golden crown.

She reached to his closed hand and found a silk scarf in his grasp. She gently took it, and spread it to take a look at it. Delicate, soft, colourful. She wondered if it wasn’t a gift for someone. For her, perhaps?

Her eyes landed on his other hand. It was just by the bed’s pole. A tempting thought was born in her mind, and after a moment of hesitation, she decided to act upon it. Very gently, she wrapped the scarf around his wrist, then tied it to the pole. Then she looked around, looking for something to use on his other hand. A moment later she found a band Fenris sometimes wore on around his neck. She thought it was appropriate – to make him a part of it, even though he wasn’t here.

She slowly took Zevran’s other hand and pulled it to the pole. She finished tying it, wondering how come she hadn’t woken him up yet. She sat next to him, looking at him.

“Now what?” he asked, not opening his eyes.

She grinned. She had no idea how long he knew exactly what she was doing, and allowed her to finish.

He opened one eye, looked at her, then closed it again. “I’m waiting.”

She started undressing him. He let her with a sly smile. She decided to torture him a bit, so after she took all his clothes, she slowly, sensually started taking hers off. His reaction was clearly visible, but she wasn’t done with teasing.

She took one of his daggers, sat on his chest, and neared the blade to his neck. “Remember?” she asked.

His smile became wider. “How could I forget.”

She placed the weapon flat side on his throat. “For a moment, your life belonged to me.”

“It belongs to you now too, no?”

“So it does.” She knew he didn’t mean the possibility of her taking it, but the relationship they had.

She slid the dagger lower, between his clavicles, down his chest, stopping on the lower part of his belly. He watched her intently, with one eyebrow raised complemented by a twitch of his mouth’s corner. There was no fear, no worry on his face. She enjoyed his trust. She put away the dagger, and her hands travelled on his skin. Her fingers drew pictures of his tattoos and scars. He pulled at the ties, then looked up at his hands. He’d forgotten he could not reach to her. His head fell back on the pillow with resignation. She neared her face to his, and barely touched his lips with hers, then moved away. He murmured with disappointment. She moved to his ear, down his neck, and chest. She was close enough to tease his skin with the warmth of her breath but not close enough for touch him. He pulled at his ties again. This time he looked up as if thinking how to get rid of them. He didn’t try to free himself yet, though. She thought he was braver than she expected.

She moved even lower and blew air at his cock. Another groan came out of his mouth, and he pulled again.

“So this is how it’s going to be, mmm?” he asked.

She only smiled at him. He tried to bend his legs, but she pulled them straight. “Be good or I’ll tie them up too.”

Saying it was a mistake. His face said ‘challenge accepted’, and she knew he was just about to become trouble. She wasn’t wrong – he tried to catch her between his thighs.

“Bad Crow!” she scolded him, then crossed his legs at the ankles and sat on his thighs just above his knees, trying to keep them between her own.

“Mmmm, moist,” he commented with a sly grin.

She moved a bit on his legs, but wasn’t sure it was teasing him or fulfilling the hunger of her own growing arousal. He pulled at his ties again, and this time clearly tried to twist his wrists free. She moved her hands up her body to hear breasts with a challenging look, and his reaction was exactly what she wanted it to be. He squinted at her, then looked up at both his hands, probably wondering which would be easier to free. In the meantime, she slid over his cock but not onto it, which distracted him, and slowed his attempts at loosening the scarves. Only for a short moment, though. She moved higher, each of her hand gently moved up his arms to his hands, and closed around his wrists. She felt his tongue on one of her breasts, which were now right above his face.

“Naughty Crow,” she said, arching her back to make them harder to reach.

“You are that, yes,” he agreed.

She looked at him, into his honey eyes, and she wasn’t sure she could go on much longer. For a moment they stared at each other intently, then she gave up to her own urges, slid lower onto his cock. He closed his eyes with relief, while she started moving. After the build-up, it felt so good. He pulled at his ties again; he was used to a lot of touching, and now he was still deprived of that. She started playing with her breasts, her hair, moving her hands sensually on her skin, while he watched her, biting his lower lip, still hungry for more.

They both came quickly, and the final satisfaction was enormous for her. She slumped on his body, panting and resting for a moment. Then untied one of his hands. He didn’t wait for her do free the other one, as he did it himself, then leant over her and started kissing her intensely. Clearly he wasn’t done yet. He was passionate, burning, almost rough, but she enjoyed every second, filled with the same fire.

Finally they wrapped themselves around each other in a tight hug, exchanging kisses.

“Next time we torture Fenris,” Zevran said.

She untangled herself from his arms and legs, sat, pressed his shoulders flat to the pillow, and looking into his eyes said in a very serious, solemn voice, “We will never ever do that to Fenris. You hear me? Never. We allow him to tied us up into smoked meat bundles, but never try to tie him. Promise me. Promise me!”

A bit surprised and slightly taken aback by her intensity, he blinked. “I promise.” He frowned. “He knows we wouldn’t hurt him.”

“What he knows is not the same as what is in his scarred heart, Zevran. It could trigger something. It could bring out things we don’t intend to. We never do this! Promise!”

“I promised.”

She relaxed, laid down, and cuddled to him again. This time it was her turn to show trust in being tied: to his word.


	36. Chapter 36

Eeyo looked around, searching for his ‘temporary partner in crime’, and finally spotted the elf. He approached him slowly, pretending he was in no rush to start a chat with an old friend.

“You have my coin?” his contact asked.

“I do.” Eeyo dropped a pouch of coins into his hand. He’d spent five days, pickpocketing anyone who looked rich enough, to get the amount Merrt had asked.

After the content of the pouch was carefully checked, the elf gave him a few rolls of papers. “You deliver two before you reach his address, and then go to his place,” he instructed. “You have all three addresses written here. I assigned them the way you asked, but it’s not very efficient.”

“Good.” He took the messages that were handed to him, and checked the first two addresses. He didn’t need the third one written down, but it had to be for the cover story.

Merrt left, while Eeyo headed for the first house he had to deliver a message. It went smoothly, and he even got a tip for coming before the expected time.

The route to the second house took him by the third one. When passing by, he made a show of tripping and falling to make sure the guards noticed him, and hopefully remember. He sheepishly looked in their direction, and they did watch him, one apparently quite amused. He picked himself up, and continued on his way to deliver the second message.

Then he had to return to the third house. He hoped he looked convincingly embarrassed, when he approached the guards.

“I have a message to deliver to…” He glanced at the card with the address. “Alfaro.”

“Where is the usual messenger?” one the the guards asked.

“Ill.”

He hoped Merrt had remembered to cough loudly the day before, as they’d agreed.

“Get in.”

Not to appear suspicious, Eeyo sought the first person who was an elf, for he was absolutely certain that would be one of servants, and asked to be taken to the master of the house. It happened to be a young boy, probably younger than he was, who then called a human man, who then tried to take the message.

“No, sorry, sera, to the addressee’s hands only.”

“Why?” the man asked, raising his eyebrow. Eeyo couldn’t tell it was surprise or suspicion. “This was never a requirement before.”

“I’m a replacement for the regular delivery boy. I’d like to do this job properly not to get either of us in trouble. Please, sera, please!” He tried to make the best impression of a mabari he could muster. Zevran had once told him he was so cute he could melt hearts, but Eeyo wasn’t sure he had just been making fun of him.

“You mean it’s not you who…” He paused. “You elves all look the same to me.”

Doing all in his power not to show his true reaction to that, Eeyo followed the man, who fortunately took pity on him or simply didn’t care otherwise, and led him to his master without as much as any other word.

On their way through the garden, the elf took notice of all useful details: two fruit trees by the wall, which he planned to use as an emergency escape route, the number of people milling around, any guardian dogs.

The house inside drowned in luxury. Soft carpets everywhere. Eeyo was sure he’d be asked to take off his shoes if he wasn’t already barefoot. He was glad he was allowed to wear his own feet in here. All kinds of trophies, shields, weapons, tapestries – the elf couldn’t tell what colour the walls were, they were covered by decorations so richly.

Finally they entered a room… or perhaps a bedroom? There was a huge bed with a laced canopy, a huge table with huge chairs around it, and a huge plop of a person on one of those chairs. Eeyo wasn’t sure the size of the person was his own body or the layers of colourful clothing he wore.

“Messer, a messenger,” the human announced.

The plop mumbled something chewing on a piece of meat, then looked at Eeyo. He stretched his hand for the roll, so the young Crow approached him, and handed the paper to him poison-fused side first. He also wondered, if there was enough poison to kill this big person, instead of merely giving him a diarrhoea or something. For a second the thought was amusing, but then he realised it could be a genuine concern.

After handing the paper to its recipient, he turned away, as if ready to leave. The servant-man was waiting for him to lead him out, but Eeyo’s plans changed. When he was just by the man, he reached for his hidden dagger, and quickly stabbed the man in his neck. Surprise and shock – and damaged throat – kept him silent, while he fell to the floor, dying. The elf kicked the door closed, then moved toward his main target, who was just about to raise an alarm. He jumped to him, punched him in the face to make sure the scream was interrupted, then used the same dagger to finish the job.

Now to get out of here alive. But even if he didn’t manage to do that, he completed his job, and Zevran got his contract done.

His thoughts and heart were racing. He tried to stiff the growing feeling of upcoming panic. He felt trapped. He went to the window to see if there were any conveniently growing trees outside, but none close enough. He could either try to get upstairs to one of rooms to reach a tree, or jump outside here, and then find a way outside the walled garden. Why rich people always had houses with gardens? Both options had the same flaw: lots of people around. Why rich houses were always so full of people?

Whatever he wanted to do, he couldn’t stay here with two dead bodies! He had to act! He took the outside layer of his clothes off – something he had prepared for in advance – not to run about in bloodied garments, and tied it up in a small bundle which he wrapped around his waist. Then he jumped out of the window… and a sharp pain shot from his ankle. Oh, great! Trying to ignore the discomfort, he went to what he thought was the back of the house. He tried to listen to steps not to bump into someone. Putting any weight on his foot was a torture now, so he couldn’t prevent his limping.

He heard chatting behind the corner, so he carefully took a peek to see a group of people with bags talking to someone. They seem to disagree on something, but eventually the bags were taken, and the delivering them men headed out. Counting on his luck, Eeyo decided to try to blend in with them. He tagged along behind, hoping the house dwellers would take him for one of them, while they would take him for one of the house dwellers. A limping elf wouldn’t be that interesting to anyone.

To his surprise, this totally insane plan worked, and soon he was outside. The house was still quiet by the time he reached the gate. No one found the bodies, yet?

He limped back home, still a little scared, and with that weird feeling that it all went too smoothly, and nothing in life was this easy. He looked back several times, but no one followed him; not that he could tell. Only now it started to dawn on him what a crazy task he had taken upon himself.

He returned home, essentially jumping upstairs on one leg, because the foot of the other one tripled in size.

Only Fenris was at home. Reading, naturally, because he clearly had decided to read all books in existence.

“Where have you–” he began, then silenced after looking at Eeyo. He rose. “What happened!” He helped the Dalish to a chair, practically carrying him there, and the young elf was impressed how effortless it was to him.

“I completed a contract,” he said. “The merchant contract,” he clarified.

Fenris frowned. “The impossible, sleep-with-him, must-have-an-army contract?”

Eeyo grinned. “It helps when you look like an innocent child.”

Fenris pulled a chair, then placed the other elf’s leg on it. “And how did this happen?”

“I jump like a two-year-old.”

“Zevran sent you alone to complete the impossible contract?” The Tevinter’s tone was a clear indication of what he thought about it: nothing good.

“No, no, he didn’t know.”

Fenris was just about to place a rag dipped in cold water on Eeyo’s ankle, when he froze, and gave the young elf a look filled with incredulity. “What?”

The Dalish smiled guiltily. “I came up with a plan, and did it. Now I can report it done.”

“Are you insane?!”

“I succeeded, didn’t I? And the price was just a twisted ankle!”

“You got lucky, Eeyo!”

“So, I’m like Zevran now!”

“And reckless!”

“More like Zevran, if to trust Nadami’s words.”

“Eeyo!”

“What?! Happy end!”

“Aeeeh…” Fenris emitted a sound, but any other words just died in his throat. He only shook his head with disapproval.

They were almost finishing their simple meal that Fenris had prepared, and the ache in the ankle turned into dull pulsing, when Zevran and Nadami returned.

The Crow was clearly angry. Stomping in his boots, he walked into their bedroom, closed the door behind him, and stayed there without giving anyone else as much as a look.

“What happened?” Fenris asked Nadami.

“Someone just crossed us, and his reputation just got another hit,” she explained. “Also, that someone just became a Crow target, so I hope they are proud of themselves.”

“Crossed how?” the elf prodded.

“It’s a really bad idea to kill a target a Crow assassin has a contract on. Zevran did that a while ago to spite the Crows, and for fun, but it’s not that much fun when someone does that to him with his big target at the time he has to build respect.”

“Eeyo…” Fenris looked at him.

“What?” The Dalish shrugged, but then it dawned on him. “Oh, Maker…” He looked at Nadami. “It’s about the merchant?” She nodded. “Zevran! It was me!” he called toward the room.

“Wha–” she started, but didn’t finish, stunned.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Zevran looked at Eeyo. “You claim it?” He frowned.

“I don’t claim anything. I did it. I planned to poison him, but I wasn’t sure it’d work, considering his size, so I cut him. And his servant, he was unlucky to be in the room.”

Zevran squeezed his eyes. Eeyo wondered if he shouldn’t be offended by the disbelief. He told them how the events unfolded, starting from his deal with the messenger boy, and ending on describing how much his ankle hurt. As he spoke, the Antivan’s frown dissolved first into interest, and eventually into amusement. At the same time, Nadami’s face changed its expression from stunned to a frown.

“That was reckless,” she said. “You got lucky!” She sighed. “You’re going to turn me grey long before my time.” Fenris put his hand on hers. To Eeyo’s surprise, that seemed to effectively calm her down.

The young Dalish looked at Zevran. “I never really went through the real Crow initiation. Can this count?” he smiled sweetly and fluttered his eyelashes.

“I wouldn’t dare to take that glory away from you, my young friend,” the Antivan grinned.

“I’m surrounded by crazy,” Nadami sighed.

“So you’re a good fit,” Fenris smirked, looking at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I love you all so much, you jerks.”


	37. Chapter 37

Zevran and Rafa finished the inspection of the flat.

“What do you think?” the human Crow asked.

The elf paused to consider the answer, and eventually said, “I like it. It’s in a crowded area, so easy to blend in for assassins who are trying to reach it, and it has everything we need to set it up properly.” After the House of Arainai had been almost completely raided and destroyed by still unknown contract, they had lost both the training centre with all the young recruits and the safe house for existing assassins, as few as there were left alive. Rafa had taken it upon himself to find a new place, and Zevran had let him, since the human had been one of those in charge of the old one.

“That’s what I thought, too. Our kitchen would be tiny, but it’s not like we have plenty of people to feed. Also, there’s a healer nearby. Just one block away.”

Zevran nodded with approval. “The matter of the safe house is solved,” he said. “You were deeply involved with the previous one, yes?”

“Indeed,” Rafa smiled. “I hoped you’d leave me in charge of this.”

“It’s a lot of work.”

“I’m not afraid of work.”

The elf observed him for a long while, and Rafa started to shift with discomfort. “I’d like to drop more on your lap,” Zevran said in the end.

“More? Anything!” Clearly, that wasn’t what he had expected to hear. But his master’s words cheered him up.

Zev went to a window and looked outside, and the other Crow followed him. “I have accepted the contract on the magister.”

“I see. In all honesty, I thought you would.”

“This is going to take a while to complete.”

“I’m sure.”

The elf turned away from the window to look at Rafa. “You will stay in charge.”

“Me? Not Nadami? I always thought she was like your right hand.”

“Nadami is going with me.”

“Eeyo?”

“Also.”

“Fenris too, I am sure. It makes sense to take him.”

“Yes.”

“So… what do you mean?”

“You have to step in. You will keep the lights in the house. It’s up to you to keep things running.”

“Zevran…” Rafa hesitated.

“Just say it.”

“There is still a contract on your head, which is unresolved.” He shook his head. “No, that doesn’t matter. What I mean to say is that your reputation keeps the enemies of the house at bay. With you gone, I’m not sure what would keep them away.”

Zevran smirked. “I’ll leave my reputation behind.”

The human sighed quietly. “I probably sound like a coward who doesn’t want to get killed, but it’s not that. What you’d done to the Arainai before you took over… it was bold, and not just pure luck or accident. You can do it again. They know it, so they don’t want to cross you. But with you gone…”

“I’m not leaving forever. I will return. And if I find that someone tried to mess with me, they will pay.” Rafa nodded, still unconvinced. Zevran neared his face to the human’s. “If you have any ideas of seating me out, you know how it would end, yes?”

“Me? I wouldn’t! My ambition ends on wanting to run the safe house.”

Zevran only raised his eyebrow. His words had the effect he’d hoped to achieve.

“C’mon! You can’t really think I’d stab you in the back!”

“I don’t, but Crow loyalty goes only that far.”

“You are my guildmaster.”

The words were spoken in a solemn tone, which made the elf smile. He patted Rafa’s shoulder. “You can do it! You’re a good organiser.”

The human straightened. “I won’t fail you!”

Zevran looked around. “We’ll have a meeting here with everyone who is left. I mean everyone. Every single Crow under my wing.”

“Consider it done.”

 

* * *

 

Nadami was surprised by the invitation, but didn’t refuse. She was quite intrigued and curious what Turo could want from her. She appeared at his house at the designated time, and was taken to what clearly was a dining room. She was invited to sit down.

“The master will be here soon. Important matters kept him, so he’ll be a bit late. Wine?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she told the servant, who then left the room.

Left her all alone. She found that surprising too.

She looked around the table. There were two sets, and she had been seated at one. The other one was for Turo, she guessed. So, a dinner? She didn’t think he’d want to poison her, because why, but also why this whole thing? Wasn’t the matter between them closed? Or did he hope she’d now spy on Zevran for him?

The door opened, and he entered, smiling at her. “Sorry I’m late.” He sat in his place. “I hope you didn’t wait long.”

“What do you want?” she asked directly.

Two servants entered, bringing a couple dishes of food.

“Nothing but your company, Nadami.” He chuckled at the suspicious look she gave him. “We’re still family.” She frowned with even more suspicion, which made him laugh even louder. “Nothing evil, I swear!” He pushed one of the dishes toward her. “Here, try this. It’s really delicious.”

“So all this was to get that house from Zevran?”

He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t about the house. It was what it was. The Houses’ interest usually overlap, but sometimes not. Do you know what happens to someone, who supports a conflicting House instead of their own?”

“Death?” she guessed.

“Indeed. They get executed. I’m not saying this would happen, but considering Zevran has made a lot of enemies by defying the Crows for years, you could be trapped between him and me. This lets you off the hook. You are his. I have no say. I’m not your boss any more, just your uncle.”

She put some of the food on her plate. It looked and smelled very deliciously, but she didn’t touch it until she saw him eating it first.

“I thought you were offended by my loyalty being stronger to him,” she said.

“Hurt would be a better word. We’re blood. He’s not.” He smiled. “But you love him, and there is no stronger force than that. I had no chances.”

“Nope, you didn’t.”

“You happy?”

It was a simple question asked in a casual tone. Maybe there wasn’t anything sinister behind this dinner invitation than the willingness of staying connected.

“I am,” she replied.

“He took that magister contract?”

“He did.”

“If he needs any support, I’m sure my guys would be interested.”

“I’ll let him know, but don’t wait for a message.”

“Proud little elf.”

She squinted at his words, which she thought sounded too condescending, but he just kept eating.

“Skilled, I say,” she replied. “None of you could catch him for years, while he had fun in your backyard.”

Turo grinned. “He’s a cunning one, no one can deny that,” he admitted. “I ignored his threat for too long but for all I know it could have saved my life. He didn’t consider me a threat, so skipped me in his murdering spree.”

She giggled at that. “Lucky you!”

“Those elves are like your family,” he said. His tone was so flat she was certain he tried to hide his true feelings. Was it contempt that she surrounded herself with elves? Worry that she trusted others too much?

“They are,” she just confirmed.

“You ever thought about a true family?” he asked. “Babies? Grandbabies?”

“No, not really.” She found the question odd, but decided to play along. Sharing some of her past couldn’t get her into any kind of trouble. “All my life I bounced between one place or another, never really forging a relationship with anyone. I just never stayed anywhere long enough to have time for that.” Not mentioning she couldn’t stop thinking about Zevran, but she didn’t tell him that. “So I never pondered any possibilities.”

“And now? Now he seem to have grown some roots. And those roots travel with you, in a way. You all bounce here and there together.”

“I… I don’t know. I guess I’m not used to think that far ahead. I have them. Now also Eeyo. He still has a few years to full adulthood, so I kind of feel responsible for him.” Turo listened, nodding. “I think you are right; they are my family that I could build, because we spend all this time together.”

“How did you even get yourself with _two_ elves, not just one?” he giggled.

“Not that I planned it! I don’t think any of us saw this coming. It just… happened.” They still hadn’t told her what she’d done that terrible drunk night, but at this point it didn’t matter a bit. “I didn’t even know one could love two people at the same time like that.”

“So you have no preference? One isn’t more important than the other?”

She shook her head with conviction. “No, absolutely not. I wouldn’t be able to choose.” He smiled at her words. “They’re both precious to me.”

“They’re lucky,” he said softly. “You’re like a tigress protecting her streak.”

Finally she understood. It wasn’t contempt or worry, it was jealousy. He was envious she had all those people dear to her, and he had only her and not even that close… or trusting. “Do you regret never having a family?” she asked him.

“I never really could.”

“Why not? Why Crows can’t have them?”

“We are taught to kill. Nothing else matters. We are taught to be cold, unfeeling, ruthless. Many of us don’t live long enough to learn there is more to life. For those who are free enough to be able to have a life outside of taking and fulfilling contracts it’s already too late. All we can have are occasional lovers, but even that is often a business transaction rather than a real commitment.”

“If you could, would you marry and have children?”

“Probably not. They could become a target. I could be the death of them.” He smiled weekly. “But I have you.”

She returned the smile. “Could I be a target?”

“Possible, but you can take care of yourself, and you have two skilled fighters who’d defend you. You’re not helpless. If someone tried to kill you just to punish me, I believe they’d deem the risk not worthy. I certainly would. You’re entrenched. And even if they’d survive the attempt, retaliation would come quickly. Probably in a painful – I am sure it’s very painful – form of a glowing elf who’d literally take their heart out.” He paused, then added. “I’d want to avenge you too.”

“Awwww, look at a guildmaster Crow grow soft,” she joked.

He laughed. Then got serious. “To answer the intent of your question, yes, I wish I could have family. As I grew older, I thought more about your father, and how his fate unfolded. I knew he was eventually hunted down, but I never knew what happened to the girl he had ran off with. And then you appeared in the guild house with Zevran. A copy of him, just a girl.” He smiled at his memory. “Beautiful, brave, and as I discovered with time, also very loyal.”

“You’re sentimental,” she noted gently.

“I think more and more the older I get,” he laughed, and she joined him. He reached out to take her hand. “Be happy, Nadami. Cherish the time you have with your men.”

She squeezed his fingers. “I’m doing my best.”

He grabbed his empty glass. “Why aren’t we drinking any wine?” he asked loudly. “Kaffen, where’s the wine?!”

She heard fast steps closing in on the other side of the door. No doubt one of the servants rushing in with a good choice of wine.


	38. Chapter 38

Eeyo had never seen the previous safe house. As a recruit, he hadn’t had a reason to go there, so all he knew about it was from Zevran’s stories. Now he set his foot the first time in the new one.

The safe house was in fact a flat on the second floor of a building. It was still in the process of adapting it for the Crow needs, but Rafa clearly had done a lot already.

He sat out of the way, while all assassins milled about before the meeting, thinking that it reminded him a lot of the recruit centre, just with grown-ups instead of kids. He hadn’t been anywhere near it since the attack. Not only Zevran had clearly forbidden him to go there, but he didn’t want to see that place as well. He fully understood it possibly wasn’t safe, but that wasn’t the main reason. He knew all those children. More than once he had calmed scared Atala, helping her fall asleep. She had been a sweet creature, if easily spooked, and a damn good pickpocket. She could grow up to be an awesome Crow, like Nadami. Instead, she hadn’t lived to see her ninth birthday, because adults decided to play death games. He hoped Zevran would soon discover who was behind the slaughter, and he also hoped he’d have a chance to pay back for what they’d done. He wanted to be a part of the retaliation, and he’d beg Zevran on his knees, if necessary, to make that happen.

Nadami sat next to him.

When Zevran and Rafa entered the room, Eeyo knew the meeting was just about to start. The elf sat on a table, so that he was slightly above everyone’s level. He spoke in Antivan, so Eeyo didn’t understand every single word, but still enough to get the gist. Not that anything of what was being said was new to him. He’d witnessed the brainstorm the Zevran had had with Nadami and Rafa during the last few days.

He watched the faces of all gathered Crows. He knew some of them, while others he’d never seen before. He wondered if any of them had royal blood in their veins; it wasn’t that uncommon among the Crows.

Zevran explained he was going off to complete an important contract but didn’t reveal the details. Not everyone had to know they were going after a powerful magister. Then he mentioned the contract on his head. Eeyo noticed it made a few Crows shift with uneasiness. He wondered if it was because they feared for their lives, they were eager to find out who it was to take them down, or they were traitors and worried whether they had been discovered.

The sad truth was they still didn’t know who it was. There hadn’t been more attempts, but now with the new safe house anything was possible. It was a contract as much on Zevran, as on his whole cell. Otherwise Thiago and the kids would still be alive. Eeyo knew a contract couldn’t be cancelled – that was against Crow rules – so it wasn’t the end of the story. It would end the moment they killed whoever was after them; both the person who ordered it, because they could try to find another assassin to complete the job, and the assassin, because they could not just abandon the task. Complete it or die trying.

Eeyo wondered, if after the failure the assassin who’d taken the job was now drowning in regret. ‘What have I done!’ He found the thought amusing. But well, if you were stupid enough to think you can take down Zevran Arainai, the elf who’d dismantled one of Crow Houses, killed masters and a guildmaster, then you deserved to get your arse handed to you.

Of course the contract still posed a threat, even if Zevran wasn’t in that much immediate danger himself. Eeyo had seen how much damage even an unsuccessful attack could deal, and he didn’t want to see that again. But the matters had calmed down for now.

The meeting had come to an end. A few Crows went to talk to Zevran personally.

Nadami looked at Eeyo. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Nothing and everything.”

“Do you have regrets?”

“Regrets?” He didn’t understand the question.

“You volunteered to be a Crow. Is this what you expected? What you wanted?”

“Do you?” he asked back.

She smiled. “I would be here anyway.”

He pondered the answer for a moment. “No regrets. If not here, now, then I’d be with the Dalish. I don’t even know where they are. Maybe the same place, maybe some humans already chased them away.”

“They are your family. In the real sense. Aren’t they? Relatives?”

“You are my family,” he replied, looking in her eyes. She blinked, surprised by his words. No, it wasn’t surprise, something else. Her eyes shone with tears. He smiled. While the words had almost slipped out, they were very true, he realised. She had taken care of him after his father’s death. She did what she believed what was best for him, even when he protested. She’d forgiven him the horrible insult he’d hurled at her in anger. “Just don’t hug me. Not in front of everyone,” he said.

She giggled. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

Not that he had any yet, but some day…

 

* * *

 

 

They left the building to find Fenris standing outside with his face toward the sun. Nadami thought that he had to feel really safe now, if he could stand on a street with his eyes closed. Or maybe his hearing was that good. With ears like that, she wouldn’t find it surprising.

He heard them, sensed them, or maybe just decided to check who it was so close – he opened his eyes and looked at the three of them. He smiled.

“So we are really going to do this,” she said. “Go to Tevinter and assassinate a magister.”

“Aha!” Zevran cheerfully confirmed.

“For my dad,” Eeyo grumbled.

“Maybe we could do it wholesale, free of charge,” Fenris suggested. Nadami wasn’t entirely sure he joked or not. Sometimes she couldn’t tell, and he enjoyed confusing people sounding like on a funeral when saying silly.

“What would happen to the Imperium, if all magisters suddenly died. All the same night?” Eeyo asked.

“It’d crumble,” the tall elf replied. “It’s a house of cards. Shake one piece, and everything falls apart.”

“So you’d like to fall apart the whole Tevinter Imperium, yes?” Zevran smirked.

“It deserves no less,” Fenris growled.

Nadami’s stomach growled too. “Can we eat something before we set off to destroy the empire that even Andraste couldn’t take down?”

The Tevinter sighed. “If we really have too…”


	39. Epilogue

Nadami stopped to fix her sword. The damn thing kept pricking her leg. She was done within moments, then looked ahead.

The sun was already very low, peeking above the mountains. Zevran, Eeyo and Fenris walked, shoulder to shoulder, and all she could see was their black silhouettes on the orange background of the huge disk in the sky.

The lanky wolf’s white hair almost looked like it absorbed the fire from the sun. His elegant, soft feline moves made her smile. She used to think he looked like ready to run, but now it was rather like he was ready to hunt. There was confidence in him. It suited him.

The short little Crow paced forward in long strides. The only elf she knew that wore boots. Wind played in his loose hair, hiding and uncovering his pointy ears. Her first love that never faded.

The Crow chick who by now grew taller than his master. Still barely walking, barely fighting, but having so much courage and determination that it was obvious in a few years he would be able to beat any veteran Crow at their own game.

Zevran stopped, and turned to her. “Mi amora! Coming?” Now they all stopped to look at her.

She ran to catch up with them. They continued together, toward the setting sun.

Her red hair more vibrant than the sun itself, her pace cheerful and bouncy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And off they go to the spin-off story "Lyrium Spring in Tevinter", the second story in what is now a series.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for accompanying me on this crazy ride. I hope you enjoyed it, cried and laughed reading it as much as did writing it.


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